Safe
by ElsaEditorial
Summary: When Daryl is rescued from a herd of walkers by a beautiful woman, he realizes that he was not the only one in need of rescuing. As he gets to know his strong-willed and beautiful savior, he must choose between the safety he has found with her and the dangers of pursuing his lost group.
1. Chapter 1

**This story takes place near the end of season 4 of Walking Dead. This is my spin-off version of what could have happened if Daryl hadn't run into his group of misfits while attempting to track Beth (and, therefore, hadn't ended up at Terminus).**

**I've been out of the writing game for a while (I've been editing professionally for the past five years and I have decided to give writing another go), so I'm not sure how long this story will be. Reviews will be helpful and appreciated. Enjoy.**

Daryl crashed through the woods, pausing for a quick moment to lean against a tree to catch his breath. He glanced behind him and saw with dismay that the herd that had been chasing him seemed to have grown in size. They had been lumbering after him for several miles, but in his exhaustion, Daryl had no idea how far he had actually been running. They were closing in, as if they knew he couldn't run forever.

Panting, Daryl slammed his knife into the head of a walker that had caught up with him. He wrenched the blade from her skull and forced himself to keep moving. His muscles burned in protest and he knew he couldn't keep this up for long. A few walkers were now beginning to shuffle toward him from a different direction. They were everywhere! Daryl quickly looked around and noticed a tall hill looming up ahead. If he could make it to the top of the hill, he might have a better view to determine the safest direction to head in. Gasping for breath, he ran toward the hill and scrambled up the incline as fast as his exhausted legs would allow. Finally, he reached the summit and quickly scanned the area.

Most of the herd remained to the west, but more walkers were joining the growing herd from the south. The way was clear to the east, but that was the direction the herd was heading. He noticed a few straggler walkers to the north and weighed his options. As several walkers began to reach the bottom of the hill, he saw it: a treehouse.

It was about a quarter-mile to the northeast, high up in a tree. He had no idea if the structure would be able to keep him safe from the oncoming herd, but it was the best option at the present moment. Anything was better than constantly running on the ground. Daryl took off toward it as the herd stumbled up the hill behind him, thankfully being slowed by the steep incline.

As he neared the treehouse, his stomach filled with dread when he saw that someone had brutally hacked down the steps leading up to it. He frantically looked for a way to climb up the tree to the house, but it was too far up with nothing to hold onto to climb.

"Fuck!" Daryl shouted to himself. He had to keep moving. He refused to let himself become the dead's next meal. He was about to press on again when a flicker of movement in the tree house caught his eye. He blinked, thinking that perhaps he had hallucinated in his sheer exhaustion. Suddenly the door to the treehouse opened and the figure of a woman with dark hair appeared on the tree house balcony.

"Hurry!" she hissed, rolling down a rope ladder from the balcony. Daryl took one last look at the herd of walkers behind him before rushing to the ladder and climbing up as fast as he could. When he reached the balcony, the woman grabbed him by his shoulders and tossed him unceremoniously on the wood planks. She hurriedly rolled the ladder back up.

"Get inside, now," she demanded. Daryl scrambled inside the treehouse and she closed the door behind them and locked it.

Daryl slipped his crossbow off his back and crouched low to the floor, trying to catch his breath. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. The treehouse was quite large for what it was; it was clearly built with the intention of being more than just a child's playhouse. A quilted double bed was pushed into a corner opposite a ratty-looking couch, and a small wooden table surrounded by four rickety chairs stood in the center of the room near an old wood-burning stove. Books, random articles of clothing, and other personal items were littered about, and he concluded that the woman who was now his savior had been holed up here for a while.

Daryl heard the unmistakable moans and shuffles of the oncoming herd as they began to pass below the treehouse. He aimed his crossbow at the door and tried to slow his breathing. The woman came away from one of the windows and crouched next to him.

"They can't get up here," she whispered. "But we need to be quiet until they pass. If they know we're here, it can take days before something else grabs their attention."

Daryl gave her a curt nod before slowly lowering his crossbow. He eased himself into a sitting position and leaned his head against the wall behind him. He closed his eyes, exhaustion threatening to completely overtake him. He tried not to think about what probably would have happened if this woman hadn't come to his rescue. He opened his eyes to see her studying him.

"Thank you," he muttered quietly.

She smiled slightly and shrugged. "Got a name?" she murmured.

"Daryl."

"Nice to meet you, Daryl. I'm Stella."

Daryl's hard blue eyes studied her warm brown ones, searching for any reason not to trust her. He reminded himself that she could have just stayed hidden in the tree house and let him die, but she hadn't. And without her, he knew he would not have made it much farther.

"Get some rest," Stella whispered. "Hopefully they'll be gone when you wake."

Daryl nodded and closed his eyes again. He had never felt more grateful for the walls protecting him from the undead, and he was even more grateful for the beautiful woman who had saved him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry if this chapter is a little slow. Just wanted to introduce some of Stella's background. Enjoy.**

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><p>Stella studied the sleeping form of her new companion as she stirred the pot of beans she was heating on the wood stove. Her supplies were running dangerously low, but he looked like he was in desperate need of a meal. The dark circles under his eyes showed how little solid rest he had gotten as of late, and she could only imagine how exhausted he had been after running from such a large herd.<p>

She had also not failed to notice how ruggedly handsome Daryl was. She bit her lip and tried to shake the inappropriate thoughts that had inevitably filled her head. She didn't know anything about this man. _Don't make the mistake of trusting him before you know him,_ she told herself. In today's world, the living could be scarier than the dead.

As she ladled the beans into two bowls, Daryl began to stir from his sleep. His eyes opened and he immediately reached for his crossbow, probably on instinct. Stella watched him calmly until his eyes found hers.

"Hungry?" she asked, offering him the larger of the two servings. He nodded and gratefully accepted the bowl of food.

"Thanks."

Stella sat at the kitchen table and began to eat.

"You can sit at the table, if you like," she said pointedly. Daryl slowly rose from his spot on the floor and joined her at the table. He tried not to wolf down the food too quickly, feeling awkward as she shamelessly watched him as though fixated.

"They gone?" he asked gruffly, nodding toward the door.

"Mostly," Stella nodded. "Still a few stragglers here and there, but most of the herd has moved on. I don't think I've seen one of that size in quite a while."

"Caught me by surprise, too," Daryl sighed. He finished his beans and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Thanks for the meal."

"You looked like you needed it."

Daryl nodded and leaned back in his chair. Looking around the treehouse, he noticed that Stella had tidied up a bit while he had been asleep. He gazed at the wood stove, realizing just how nice this woman had it here. He turned his gaze back to her and noticed she was still looking at him. He cleared his throat, feeling awkward.

"So, uh . . . how did you find this place?" he asked.

"It was my daddy's. He built it when I was a little kid, almost as a bribe to get me to come along on his weekend hunting trips. Spending the weekend in a treehouse sounded so much more magical than in a boring log cabin," she mused. "He died when I was in college, and then I started using this place as my own personal writing retreat. It seemed like the safest place to go when the world went to shit."

"So you've been out here all alone since the start?"

Stella shook her head. "At first, there were four of us. Rachel, Tyler, James, and I. We'd been friends since college, and we were living in Atlanta when shit started happening, so we decided to get the hell out of the city and come here. Rachel died early on from a walker bite, and the guys and I did fine for a while." Stella's expression hardened and she cleared her throat. "About a month ago, they were on a supply run and Tyler didn't make it. Ambushed by walkers. James made it back, but he'd been bitten, so I lost him, too. It's just been me ever since."

Daryl's thoughts drifted to the people he had come to know as family. He wished he knew whether they were alive or dead, especially Beth. He'd been tracking her for at least two weeks after her sudden disappearance, and he was beginning to lose hope.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I've lost people, too. Too many."

"How'd you end up alone?"

Daryl sighed, unsure whether he wanted to talk about the past with this woman. "Shit happens. Had a place, a secure place, with a good group. Another group tried to take it from us and we was split up. Me and this girl, Beth, got out, and we traveled together for a while, till she disappeared. Someone took her. I been tryin' to track her for a couple of weeks, but I ain't found shit."

"Someone took her?" Stella asked uneasily.

"Lot of bad people in this world. Alone like you are, you should probably be more careful. What if I ain't as nice as I seem?" he said pointedly.

"Who said you seem nice?" she replied. "And maybe you're the one who should be afraid," she continued, lifting her shirt to reveal a long knife sheathed and stuck into the waistband of her black jeans. "I could have slit your throat while you were sleeping."

Despite her serious expression, her eyes held a mischievous glitter, and Daryl almost smiled. He frowned instead. "I'm serious."

"So am I," she said, standing from the table and giving him a sly wink.


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm having lots of fun writing this story so far. I hope you guys are enjoying it, too! And a huge thank you to those of you who reviewed. You give me the encouragement to keep writing!**

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><p>Daryl awoke with a start on the couch, reaching for his crossbow on instinct. He relaxed when he remembered where he was. Stella was already awake and getting dressed across the room, wearing only her black jeans and a bra. His eyes involuntarily moved down her body, taking in her lean stomach and the faded line of a long, thin scar that ran vertically down her lower abdomen. He blinked and mentally slapped himself for looking. <em>Not the time or place, Dixon, <em>he thought bitterly. _And she's so young._

Stella looked up and met his eyes, and he quickly averted them. She laughed lightly.

"There's no place for modesty in the apocalypse," she said, pulling a black racerback tank top over her head.

He gave her a half smile, not sure what to say and feeling awkward. She was unlike anyone he had met, even before the world ended. The previous night had been uncomfortable and tense for him. After dinner, she had made a point to try to get to know his story, but he wasn't one for talking, especially to strangers. His brief replies to her questions didn't deter her, however, and she had kept pressing him for conversation. He'd ended up telling her about the prison and about his now lost group, and she had listened with rapt attention. He tried to remind himself that she'd been without human company for almost a month, but her eagerness to be friendly still unnerved him.

Stella moved to the window and peeled aside one of the dark plaid curtains.

"Only two stray walkers wandering about," she observed. "I'm going to head down to get some water."

"There a stream nearby?" Daryl asked.

"Even better. Dad had a water pump put in when he built this place. We have a steady supply of clean water right below our feet," she replied with a grin.

Daryl watched her strap a utility belt around her waist that held two knives, one much larger than the other. He took a look out the window and took note of the location of the two walkers she had seen.

"I'll help you get rid of those walkers and then I'll get out of your hair," he said.

She froze and looked up at him. "What do you mean?" Her tone sounded anxious.

"I mean that I'll get going as soon as—"

"No, please don't go," she said hurriedly. He narrowed his eyes, studying her. "It's just . . . you just got here."

"I don't wanna invade your space," Daryl shrugged. "You saved my life, but you really don't owe me nothin' else. If anything, I owe you."

"Then repay me by staying," she said quickly. "Even if it's just for a couple of days. I know your body could use more rest, and I could definitely use the company. It's so lonely out here by myself."

Daryl bit his lip. She was definitely right about him needing more rest, and sleeping in the treehouse out of the walkers' reach had felt amazing. But the longer he lingered here, the slimmer the chances were that he would ever find Beth. He owed it to Beth to keep trying.

"I need to find Beth," he replied softly.

"I know you do," she agreed. "But you said you'd been tracking her for weeks with no luck. How is tracking her while exhausted going to do any good? Besides, you said last night that she was taken in a car. You're on foot. She could be entire states away by now if her kidnappers were so inclined to take her out of Georgia."

Daryl's eyes hardened. "Don't mean I'm gonna give up," he said gruffly.

"I have a car," she said. "It's parked about a quarter mile from here on the gravel road that leads to this place. We—er, I mean, I—use it to go on runs to the nearest town about ten miles away. It doesn't have much gas in it now, but you could siphon some in town and make larger sweeps with it."

He studied her, contemplating the offer.

"I want you to find her, Daryl," Stella said earnestly. "But I also want you to stay. Being alone out here is driving me crazy. If you stay, even just for a little while, you can use my car to help you search for Beth whenever you want."

He sighed, pinching his nose between his eyes. She did have a point. Without a car, Daryl would always be so much farther behind Beth's kidnappers.

"Might do us some good if I make a supply run with that car while I'm at it," he finally said. Stella's eyes lit up in relief.

"Yes. Absolutely," she replied, flashing him a dazzling wide smile. "I made a run a few weeks ago, but my supplies are almost out. And I really hate leaving the treehouse with no one to keep an eye on it. Anyone could find it and I could come home to find that someone has taken my home for their own."

"A very reasonable fear," Daryl nodded. "How far from the gravel road are we?"

"C'mon," Stella smiled. "Why don't I show you around, now that you aren't running for your life?"

Daryl gave her a half smile and nodded. She opened the door to the treehouse and stepped outside, glancing down at the two lingering walkers who had heard the sound and began shuffling toward them. Stella threw down the rope ladder and quickly clambered down it. Before Daryl could descend behind her, she had already unsheathed the larger of her two knives and swiftly slipped the blade into the skulls of both walkers. She wiped the blade on her pant leg and turned to see Daryl by the foot of the ladder with a partial smile on his face.

"I'm glad to see that you know how to use that thing," he said, nodding toward the knife as she slipped it back into its sheath on her utility belt.

"Let's get one thing straight," she said, her eyes twinkling, but her expression serious. "I'm not a helpless little girl who constantly needs protecting. I may not look like much, but I know how to defend myself. That's not to say I won't need your help from time to time, but for the most part, you won't need to keep looking over your shoulder to make sure I'm okay. I know how to handle myself in whatever shitstorm this world turned into."

Daryl smirked at her, impressed. "Okay, girl. Whatever you say."

Stella returned his smirk along with a wink. "Now, let me show you around."

He moved to follow her, trying not to think about how sexy her fierce independence was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for reading, everyone!**

**Oh, and for those who are curious, I imagine that Stella looks like Shannyn Sossamon. She's the woman I used in the picture for this story.**

**Enjoy chapter 4!**

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><p>"Water pump is over here," Stella said, motioning for Daryl to follow her. She led him around the tree to where the pump was located, near what had formerly been the stairs to the treehouse.<p>

"This your work?" Daryl asked, looking at the jagged remains of the stairs.

"Did you ever read _The Zombie Survival Guide _by Max Brooks?" Stella asked. Daryl's expression answered for him. She ignored his incredulous stare and continued. "It was written as satire before all this went down, but I took some of its advice to heart. This is the embodiment of the lesson 'Get up the staircase, then destroy it.'"

Daryl snorted, trying to remember if he'd ever seen a walker encounter a staircase. "Can biters even climb stairs?"

Stella shrugged. "I didn't care to find out. But having the ladder that I can roll up when I'm inside the house also makes me feel safer from living threats." She bent down and turned on the water pump, splashing the cold water on her face and arms.

"So what other tips does this this book offer?" Daryl asked curiously.

"Lots. But my personal favorite is, 'Blades don't need reloading.'"

Daryl chuckled. "That's true. But sometimes blades are a little too close for comfort," he said, placing a hand almost lovingly on the crossbow slung across his back. Stella could tell that he had had it for so long that it was a part of him.

"A longer blade than what I have would be more ideal," she said. "Like a machete or something."

"A woman in my old group had a katana," Daryl told her. "She was damn good with that thing."

"That would be amazing," Stella sighed wistfully. "The perfect weapon."

Daryl nodded and bent down to the stream of water to wash his own face and arms. He held his mouth close to the spout and swallowed mouthfuls of clean, cold water.

"I have some soap in the house if you want to wash up later," Stella said offhandedly.

"You sayin' I stink or something?" Daryl replied with a grin. She rolled her eyes and continued on her tour of "home."

"The road is a quarter mile through the woods that way," she said, pointing. "About half a mile south of here, there's a grove of wild blackberry bushes. They're getting a little picked over now that I've been eating so many of them, but they've still got some left."

She led him a few hundred feet from the treehouse and let out a groan as she came upon a heavy log and broken sticks. "I used to have a deadfall trap here, but it looks like the herd trampled it when they came through last night."

Daryl looked at her in surprise. "Where'd you learn how to make a deadfall?"

"Dad taught me," she smiled. "I can't seem to catch much, but when I do, the protein is most welcome. Only problem is, I suck at gutting small animals. Tyler always handled that part."

"Well lucky for you, I've been hunting my whole life. I'll try to catch us somethin' for tonight," Daryl offered.

Stella gave him a grateful smile and went to check her second deadfall, feeling quite relieved when she saw that it had not been destroyed in the herd's path. The trap was still empty, but at least it had survived.

"I'm going to go get us some blackberries for breakfast," she said. "Can you bring some water up to the house? Water jugs are up there against the south wall. It sucks to haul them up the ladder, but we need to make sure we have plenty of fresh water available in case another herd passes through and we have to stay put for a day or two."

Daryl nodded. "Yeah, sure."

Stella smiled at him and climbed the ladder to grab a container for the berries. She peeked at herself in the mirror before heading back down. Her short dark hair was messy as it always was. She pinched her cheeks a few times to give them some color and decided to bathe herself later in the day, regardless of whether Daryl decided to clean up. She tried not to think about how sexy he was even covered in grime as she headed back down the ladder and off toward the berry bushes.

It had been a long time since Stella had been with a man. Too long. A few months after she and her friends had fled to the treehouse in the woods, she and Tyler began sleeping together as a way to take their minds off of Rachel's death. After a while, Tyler admitted that he had developed feelings for Stella. Unfortunately, they were not mutual, and Stella had ended their "arrangement" to keep things as uncomplicated as possible. Their focus had to be on survival, not the drama the one-sided romance would have inevitably caused. It had been almost a year since she and Tyler had last slept together, and she was definitely feeling the effects of sexual deprivation.

She reached the blackberry bushes and began gathering the sweet fruit. Her mind wandered back to Daryl, and she imagined how his toned arms would look hauling the water up to the house. She thought about the way his cold blue eyes pierced right through her, and the way his large hands handled the crossbow. She wondered how those rough hands would feel caressing her skin.

_Stop it, Stella, _she chided herself. _You met the man yesterday. Keep your fucking pants on._

He was older than her, but it turned her on. She had always preferred older men. And how old was she now, anyway? She had been twenty-four when the dead had started walking. Did that make her twenty-six now? Without a calendar to mark specific passage of time, she wasn't even sure. In the world they lived in, age was a trivial issue anyway.

A sudden rustling in the leaves jerked her out of her thoughts. The decaying form of a walker approached her, his claw-like fingers reaching for her. She stood and quickly unsheathed her knife, burying it in the dead thing's forehead with more force than was necessary. His skull easily crumbled beneath her blade and left rotting brain matter on the edge of her hand.

_I have got to find a cleaner way to take out my frustration_, she thought as she attempted to wipe her hand clean with a handful of leaves. She grabbed the container of blackberries and made her way back to the man who was secretly tormenting her.


	5. Chapter 5

Daryl looked up from the crude arrow he was making and watched Stella struggling with her own task at hand: rebuilding her second deadfall trap. He had offered to help her, but she had stubbornly refused. He wasn't sure if she was just refusing help on principle or if building the trap held a private meaning for her. He couldn't help but notice her exposed cleavage as she leaned forward, and he found himself staring in appreciation. She looked up and flashed him a mischievous smirk, prompting him to quickly avert his eyes back to the arrow in front of him.

Daryl found it hard to believe that he had only met Stella four days ago. He felt as though he had known her much longer, and the attraction between them was becoming obvious. It made him uncomfortable. It usually took Daryl a long time to warm up to people, especially women, and finding people he liked spending time with was a rare thing. Stella was an anomaly, and she made him feel as though he didn't know himself as well as he thought he had.

"I should go soon," he said. He was going on a supply run to town, and the more daylight he had to work with, the better. The days were quickly growing shorter, meaning autumn was near.

"Okay." Stella stood from her work-in-progress deadfall and brushed her hands off on her jeans. "I'll grab the keys."

They had spent the early part of the morning working outside. Daryl had fashioned several new arrows for his bow, and he planned to continue making them when he returned. Having extra arrows was always a good idea.

While Stella retrieved the car keys, Daryl made his way over to his crudely constructed stick tripod where several thin strips of rabbit meat hung to dry. He stoked the small fire beneath the tripod and added a bit more fluffy kindling. The surrounding woods had proven to have no shortage of small game. The previous day's spoils had resulted in a rather delightful squirrel stew that Stella had whipped up, and the meat from the two rabbits he had killed that morning were currently drying on the tripod. His intention was to leave Stella with as much dried meat as possible whenever he decided to head back out on his own. Homemade jerky was far from tasty, but it would be better than nothing if she fell on hard times.

"Make sure the coals don't burn out," he said as Stella approached him with keys in hand. "The smoke keeps the bugs away."

She nodded and handed the keys to him. "Remember, head down the gravel road till you hit pavement. Then turn left and you'll hit town after about 10 miles."

"How do you know I won't just steal your car and leave?" Daryl asked her with a sly smile. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I guess I don't. But I'm going to trust you. Just make sure you stay safe."

"I will. Any special requests?"

"Yeah," she smirked. "A bottle of bourbon."

Daryl snorted. "Drinking in this day and age ain't the smartest idea."

"Was it ever a smart idea?" Stella retorted.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Okay, girl. Just keep an eye on that fire. I'll be back 'fore sundown."

He shouldered his crossbow and began walking toward the gravel road, throwing her one last glance over his shoulder.

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><p>It didn't take long to reach the nearby town. Daryl drove slowly down Main Street, searching for threats both living and dead. He pulled the car into an alleyway in between a pharmacy and a diner, suddenly thankful that Stella's Prius was so quiet. He had internally groaned when he first set eyes on the car (what would Merle have thought of a Dixon driving a Prius?), but it was quiet and fuel-efficient.<p>

Daryl stepped out of the car and readied his crossbow. He crept around the alley and, seeing no immediate threats, decided to hit the pharmacy first. The glass on the door had already been broken. He cautiously stepped inside. Picking up a bottle of nail polish from the display by the door, he flung it toward the back of the store. It clattered against the floor, and a low moan from somewhere near the pharmacy counter reacted. Daryl waited, making sure that the lone walker was the only one in the store before swiftly making his way back to the pharmacy counter and running his knife through the biter's head.

Daryl wasted no time in grabbing a shopping basket and filling it with whatever items he could find: soap, toothpaste (who knew brushing your teeth could become a luxury?), first-aid supplies, and even the store's small selection of canned and dry food items, which he was surprised to find still on the shelves. As he moved through the store aisle by aisle, he stopped suddenly in the family planning section. He chewed his lip as he examined the selection of condoms. He pictured the devilish looks Stella always gave him whenever she caught him looking at her.

_No_, he thought firmly. _Don't even give yourself the option. _He forced himself to move on.

He filled the basket with as much loot as he could haul and made his way to the door to leave. His eyes fell on the small supply of liquor behind the cashier's counter. He sighed and grabbed a bottle of Evan Williams. Might as well give Stella what she asked for.

Daryl stowed the supplies in the car and looked back down Main Street. Though the windows of the grocery store down the street had been smashed in, maybe there was still food to be had inside. He started toward the store when suddenly, he heard the sound of voices.

He quickly backtracked and ducked down behind the dumpster near the entrance to the alleyway. The voices were coming from somewhere close, and they were headed in his direction. He chanced a peek around the dumpster and saw that the voices belonged to a group of six rough-looking men. They looked like the sort of men Merle would have associated with back before the world went to shit. He knew their type: the kind of men to take what they wanted and not give a shit about anyone else but themselves. Daryl pressed himself against the back of the dumpster, crossbow loaded and ready. He prayed that he wouldn't be discovered; he knew that if they found him, they likely wouldn't hesitate to kill him and take everything he had.

"This town ain't got shit, man," one of the voices said.

"Let's check some of these bars out. Maybe one of em's got a shotgun stowed behind the bar or somethin.'"

"I wouldn't say no to a drink," another man chimed in.

"Man, that's the last thing we need, you gettin' sloppy and wasted."

The group was passing the alley. _Please keep moving, _Daryl thought.

"I think that's exactly what I need. A little booze, a little fun. I'd literally kill for some pussy."

A few of the men in the group guffawed.

"No woman in her right mind would wanna touch your dick. Not unless you paid her."

"Too bad all the whores are dead, man."

"Yeah, but where are all the real women at? Seems to be a short supply lately. World's turnin' into a sausage fest."

The group laughed again, thankfully moving away. Daryl remained still until he heard them bashing in the glass to an establishment down the street. He heard the moans of several walkers accompanied by the sounds of a struggle. When the sounds died down, he heard the group still chattering as they entered whatever building they had broken into.

_No gunshots, _he thought, hoping that meant they were either low on ammo or without firearms. He stole another look around the dumpster, making sure the group was out of sight. Stealing his chance, he moved quickly back to the car, once again feeling thankful that its motor was so quiet. He backed up out of the alley onto the street behind it and quickly drove away, trying to avoid Main Street so he wasn't spotted.

There were no signs of the group as he pulled back onto the road leading back to the treehouse. Daryl hadn't gotten as many supplies as he would have liked, but at the moment, he was just glad to be heading back to Stella. The group made him nervous. The treehouse was only ten miles away. He knew that if these men found Stella alone, her fear of unwanted guests would become a real-life nightmare.

He had to protect her. She was one of the only good things left in this world.


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter is a little longer than usual. Enjoy! :)**

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><p>"Give me your shirt," Stella demanded.<p>

"Why?"

"I'm going to wash it, that's why. You've been wearing the damn thing for almost two weeks, not even counting however long you wore it before you got here. Give it here."

Daryl scoffed at her, but she was right. His tattered shirt was indeed filthy. He glanced at her bucket of soapy water by the water pump and shrugged. He peeled the shirt over his head and tossed it to her. Her eyes shamelessly devoured his shirtless form, and he couldn't resist giving her a smirk. She was unfazed, however.

"And your pants?" she continued, her eyes twinkling.

"You wish."

She snickered. "Suit yourself."

He moved to check the status of the meat drying on the tripod. He had been drying as much meat as possible to stock up in preparation of hard times ahead. The trees were changing colors and the nights had turned quite chilly. Fall was here, meaning winter was just around the corner.

"I should probably get a warmer shirt the next time I go to town," he said. It had been a week and a half since his last run, but after the close call with the group of men, he hadn't been eager to go back. Thankfully, they had seen no sign of the group. Daryl had taken the car to search for Beth twice since his supply run, and he had kept his eyes peeled for signs of the men as well. His search for both had turned up empty thus far.

"Some gloves would be nice, too," Stella said. He glanced her way and noticed that she had stripped down to her bra and was in the process of removing her pants. His eyes roamed her body as shamelessly as hers had examined his bare chest. She threw her clothes into the soapy bucket and bent down to begin scrubbing the clothes.

"I need to go out hunting soon," he said.

"So go."

"Not till you're up in the house," he shook his head. "I've told you before and I'll tell you again. I ain't leavin' you alone unless you're safe up there."

Stella sighed. "We haven't seen any sign of them since you first saw them. And if they're as loud as you described them, I'm likely to hear them well before I see them. I'll be fine."

"Sorry. I'm not changing my mind about this."

Stella shrugged and continued scrubbing. She tried not to let herself think that Daryl's concern over the group would lead to him staying forever. She knew that one day soon, he would leave, and the thought put an ache in her heart.

She glanced up at him and took in his concentrated expression and lean body. She chuckled to herself as she realized how long she had been daydreaming about the two of them in as little clothing as they wore now.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," she replied, unable to wipe the grin from her face. She pulled each article of clothing out of the soapy bucket and rinsed it thoroughly under the spout of water from the pump. When all the clothes had been rinsed, she splashed the still-soapy water over her skin, trying to ignore how cold the water was.

"You wanna wash?" she asked as she rinsed the soap from her body. Daryl shrugged and made his way over to the bucket. He haphazardly washed, his eyes still on her. She gathered up the clothes and made her way up the ladder to the house to hang them to dry on the balcony.

"I'm out of harm's way if you want to go hunt," she called down. "But your shirt won't be dry for a while."

"Roll up the ladder," he replied. "I'll give you a holler when I get back."

Stella did as she was told and went inside. She watched him through the window as he moved out into the trees, his crossbow slung over his shirtless back.

Why did he have to be so attractive? The sexual tension was killing her. She collapsed on the bed with a heavy sigh. They had been living together for two weeks, but Daryl still slept on the couch and only shared furtive glances with her. She wanted him to do more than look. She desperately wanted him to touch, to grab her and kiss her forcefully, to ravish her. She allowed her imagination to wander and slipped her hand into her panties to give herself the release she so desperately needed.

* * *

><p>Stella let out a contented sigh as she finished her meal. Daryl had brought back another rabbit, and although they had been eating a lot of rabbit as of late, it hadn't gotten old. She still considered fresh meat to be a treat.<p>

Daryl sat in a kitchen chair by the wood stove, working on more arrows. Stella reached into the pantry and grabbed the untouched bottle of Evan Williams from the shelf.

"Have a drink with me?" she asked.

Daryl eyed the bottle. "Nah, I'm good."

"You're going to let me drink alone?" she teased.

"I'm a mean drunk. You don't want me drinkin' with you anyway."

"I think I can handle you. Besides, I asked if you wanted to have a drink, not if you wanted to get drunk."

Daryl sighed, thinking about the last drink he had had. It had been with Beth. She had helped him let go of some of the shit he had been carrying his whole life. _"You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon,"_ she had said. And she was right. He missed her like hell.

"Last time I drank was with Beth," he muttered. "It was . . . special, I guess."

"I'm sorry," Stella said softly. "She should be here."

She should. She should be here trying whiskey for the first time, learning to dry meat and to make deadfall traps with Stella. _God, Beth, where are you?_

Stella poured herself a small glass of whiskey, leaving the second glass she had pulled from the shelf untouched.

"Ah, what the hell," Daryl muttered. "I could use a little numbing anyway."

Stella smiled and poured him a glass as well, sitting down next to him at the kitchen table.

"See that's the thing though," she said. "When all this first started, we used to grab a bottle of booze on every supply run, and we'd drink to numb ourselves to the world outside. We drank to forget. But as time went on and we realized that this was it, this was life now . . . it wasn't about numbing as much as it was about celebrating. We should drink to celebrate life, and to celebrate all the things we have, even with the world the way it is. That's how I look at it, anyway."

"Aren't you just a ray of fucking sunshine," Daryl said with a grin. "I found it hard to be so positive when all I could think about was survival."

"What about when you were at the prison?" Stella asked. "Wasn't life worth celebrating then? And now, now that you have a safe place to sleep and a stove to keep you warm, and obviously awesome company," she winked. "Survival isn't living, Daryl. In this moment, it isn't just about life or death, and you should be able to live as well as survive."

"Survival ain't living," Daryl repeated. "Never thought of it that way."

Stella smiled and raised her glass. "Cheers."

"Cheers."

The whiskey burned as it went down her throat, making her feel warm. The pair sat in silence for a while, sipping contentedly.

"Were you and Beth . . . you know. Together?" Stella asked suddenly.

"Nah," Daryl shook his head. "I love Beth, but not in the way you're askin.' She's just a great person through and through."

"So you never got intimate?" Stella pressed. "You said the last time you drank with Beth, it was special."

"No. She just helped me get through some shit, that's all," Daryl said. "Besides, she's like eighteen."

"What does age matter nowadays anyway?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. Was she insinuating something about herself?

"So when was the last time you had sex?" she asked bluntly.

He stopped himself from snapping "None of your business" and sighed. "Not sure. Before the world went to shit."

She gawked. "That long? You mean to say that even while living in a stronghold like the prison, with several available women to choose from, you never got down and dirty with anyone?"

Daryl glared at her. "No. Why's that so hard to believe? We had other things to worry about." She scoffed and he found himself growing annoyed. "What about you? When's the last time you got any?"

"About a year ago. Tyler and I had a thing . . . an arrangement, more like. But then he fell in love with me and I didn't feel the same, so I put a stop to it. I didn't need any drama."

"Hmm," Daryl grunted. His thoughts drifted to Judith, and he wondered if she was still alive. "Sex isn't what it used to be anyway," he said. "It's dangerous. Getting pregnant is pretty much a death sentence, for both mom and baby."

"Good thing I don't have to worry about that," Stella replied.

"What do you mean?"

"When I was in my early twenties, I was diagnosed with early-stage ovarian cancer. They removed both of my ovaries and my fallopian tubes." She lifted her shirt and pointed to the long scar that ran down her abdomen. "It took care of the cancer, but now it's physically impossible for me to get pregnant."

Daryl grunted in reply, mulling over the information and what it meant. No risk of pregnancy . . .

He looked up and met Stella's eyes, staring at him, unwavering, as if waiting for him to make a move. He leaned closer to her across the table and breathed in her scent: soap, sweat, and smoke. She smelled almost wild, and he bit his lip thinking about what he wanted to do to her . . .

With a start, he downed the rest of the whiskey in his glass and stood, marching out the door of the house without a word. He leaned against the balcony railing, his thoughts whirling. He knew what he wanted, but he was afraid to take it. Afraid of letting himself get close to someone. Afraid of getting involved and losing it all. Beth would probably have been proud of him for admitting his feelings to himself, but that didn't make it any easier.

Daryl Dixon was afraid. That was the ugly, hard truth.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I feel I am obligated to state that I do not condone unprotected sex, even for women like Stella who are unable to have children. There are other risks besides unwanted pregnancy! Make sure your men always wrap it up, ladies!<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

"I'll be back soon," Stella said. Daryl grunted in reply, not looking up from the knife he was sharpening. Stella sighed and made her way down the ladder to go off berry picking. Things had been unusually tense between them the past few days, and she wasn't entirely sure why. Daryl wasn't one for sharing his feelings.

Daryl stood from his seat at the kitchen table and watched her head off into the woods. The woman was driving him crazy. Ever since she had informed him of her inability to conceive a child a few nights back, he was having trouble keeping his thoughts pure when he was around her. It was distracting and frustrating. He knew she wanted him; it was obvious. But he couldn't bring himself to act on their mutual desires. He wondered why she didn't just make the first move. After all, she was strong-willed and seemed the go-getter type. Maybe she was afraid of scaring him away, of losing his company. Part of him was glad she hadn't made a move, however, because he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself if she started something.

Daryl mentally kicked himself for being so afraid of starting something with Stella. The last person—hell, the _only _person—he'd let in in the past few years was taken from him as soon as he started to feel comfortable. And the fact that he hadn't been intimate with anyone since the world ended was another issue entirely. Daryl had no idea what it would mean for the future, or how it would complicate things. Sex complicated things in regular life, but when life was about survival, he didn't know how he would handle it.

_Surviving isn't living, _he thought, remembering Stella's words.

And what if they fell in love? Daryl had never loved a woman before, but Stella seemed like someone who could steal his heart. The thought of that scared him most of all. He had seen people lose their spouses and significant others, had witnessed their utter devastation. Wasn't it safer to prevent the feelings from ever occurring?

Furthermore, if he developed feelings for Stella, what would that mean for his search for Beth and the others? Would he stay and forget them? Or ask her to leave the safety and familiarity of her home for a risky life on the road to find them? There were too many questions. He slammed his fist against the wall in frustration and wished he had someone to talk to about it all. Rick would have been able to give him solid advice, and he wished he knew where the man was, or if he was even alive.

Suddenly, the sound of Stella shouting jerked him out of his thoughts. He looked out the window and saw her running toward the house with a group of walkers on her tail. He quickly counted them. There were about fifteen of them. He snatched his crossbow and knife off the kitchen table and rushed outside and down the ladder.

"Are there more heading this way?" he called to her as he took down two walkers with his crossbow.

Stella turned to face the group of walkers and thrust her knife through the forehead of the one nearest to her. "Not that I saw," she called over her shoulder. Daryl hurriedly yanked the arrows out of the skulls of the two walkers he had just dispatched, heaving his crossbow into the chest of another that was closing in. The ghoul fell to the ground as Daryl reloaded and released another arrow into a biter several feet away. He drew his knife and ran it through the head of the walker he had knocked to the ground.

Glancing at Stella, he saw that she had one knife in each hand. She simultaneously thrust the knives into the heads of two walkers at once, kicking a third one back as she withdrew the blades. Daryl put an arrow through the downed walker's brain, giving Stella the opening to put down two more biters in quick sequence.

With most of the ghouls already taken out, the final few seemed like nothing. Daryl expertly shot arrows through the foreheads of three walkers in a row and watched Stella's large knife cut through the final two biters' skulls like butter.

Panting, Stella wiped her blades on her jeans and tucked them back into their sheaths on her utility belt. She glanced around at the damage the pair of them had done and couldn't stop a grin from spreading across her face. Daryl watched her and cursed himself for how much he wanted to take her in that moment. She was shining with sweat, her hands and clothes bloody and a smudge of dirt across her cheek, but she had never looked sexier to him. She was a force to be reckoned with, a skilled assassin of the dead, and it turned him on beyond measure.

"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here," she quoted, her eyes glittering in triumph and amusement. Daryl didn't offer a reply as he began making his way around the massacre of ghouls, yanking his arrows from the heads of those he had taken out with his crossbow.

"If there's more nearby, the noise might've drawn them," he said. "We should head up to the house and wait it out a bit. See what turns up. Then we can burn the bodies."

Stella nodded, disappointed that Daryl wasn't sharing her good humor. They clearly made a good team, and the fight had her amped. She followed Daryl back to the house and climbed the ladder after him, rolling it up when she reached the top. She closed the door to the house behind her and unbuckled her utility belt, putting it on the kitchen table. Daryl set down his crossbow and stood by the window with his eyes on the treeline. Nothing had emerged from the woods yet.

"You can't tell me that wasn't at least a little fun," Stella said. Daryl turned to look at her. Her hair was wild and messy, and her eyes and mouth reflected her exultant expression. His heart pounding in his chest, he crossed the room in three strides and stood in front of her, so close that he could feel the heat radiating off of her skin.

"What . . .?" she started, looking up into the icy blue eyes that stared unwavering into her own.

"Shut up," Daryl said. Before Stella could react, he laced his fingers through her hair and roughly pulled her head back, crashing his lips onto hers**.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning: This chapter contains sexual content. If reading such content makes you uncomfortable, you can skip over the first half of the chapter. The sexual content ends at the line a little over halfway through the chapter.  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Stella's knees almost buckled under the force of Daryl's kiss. She immediately returned the kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance. An intense heat burned in the pit of her stomach, and she pressed her hips into his, grinding against him. She could feel that he had already grown hard, which only fueled her intense desire.<p>

Her hands frantically clawed at his shirt, and he broke the kiss to let her tear the shirt over his head. His lips immediately devoured hers again. She shivered as his rough fingertips caressed her back beneath her shirt. She broke from his lips again to rip the shirt over her head. Daryl's fingers expertly unfastened the clasp on her bra and tossed it to the side. The heat of his skin pressed against hers was driving her wild, and she moaned into his mouth when his hand roughly grasped one of her breasts.

Stella forcefully grabbed his belt and unbuckled it, the leather making a swift sound as she pulled it from his belt loops and tossed it to the floor. Her tongue still entwined with his, she hooked her fingertips through his belt loops and backed up toward the bed, falling onto it when the back of her knees hit the mattress. Daryl climbed on top of her and began roughly kissing down her neck and chest, his facial hair both tickling and scratching her skin. He took one of her small dark nipples in his mouth and rolled his tongue over it. She arched her back and moaned in response.

Daryl hurriedly unbuttoned her jeans, and she quickly aided him in their removal. The sight of her naked beneath him was almost too much for him to handle. He had to be inside her. Her hands were fumbling with the button on his pants, and he wasted no time in helping her pull them down. His mouth returned to hers. Stella could feel his hardness pressing against her between her legs, and her desire for him became almost unbearable. She whimpered into the kiss.

He withdrew his lips from hers and propped himself up. He spat into his hand and quickly wiped the saliva on the tip of his hardened length. With one swift thrust, he pushed himself inside her. Stella cried out as he filled her to the hilt.

"Fuck," he groaned.

She felt amazing. He slowly withdrew and entered her again, her hips rising to meet his. She moaned in ecstasy as he began to move. He covered her mouth with his own to swallow her cries of pleasure as they built a steady rhythm. Their lovemaking held a sense of urgency and need, as if each thrust did not bring them close enough, and they needed more. Stella could feel her orgasm building, quicker than it ever had before.

"Don't stop," she commanded breathlessly.

Daryl increased his pace, driving into her with more force. Waves of pleasure washed over her, and she dug her nails into his back as she reached her peak, her senses exploding and her vision suddenly clouded with stars. The feeling of her tightening around him was too much. Daryl let out a strangled groan as he reached his own climax. He collapsed on top of her, both of them panting.

* * *

><p>Stella ran her fingers through Daryl's hair, enjoying the feeling of his weight on top of her. He sighed and laid his cheek against her chest.<p>

"That was the best sex I've had in years," Stella said.

"Yeah," Daryl agreed. "Fucking amazing."

It hadn't lasted very long and they hadn't explored any exciting positions, but the build up to the event had made it mind-blowing. Daryl couldn't remember _any_ sex he'd had being this good.

"There's a Hungarian proverb that says, 'Hunger is the best seasoning.' I think it also applies to sex," Stella stated.

Daryl smiled and lifted himself from her. "Are you sayin' that if you hadn't been alone and horny for so long, it wouldn't have been so good?"

She laughed and shoved him playfully. "No, dipshit. I've been waiting for you to do that forever. If we'd known each other in the regular world before all this, it would have been the same thing." She reached for her bloodied shirt and used it to clean herself up. Daryl stood and went to the window, thankfully seeing no additional walkers wandering about. Stella drank in the appearance of him standing naked in the light of the window and felt a throbbing between her legs. Just the sight of him was enough to get her going again. To her, his body was beautiful, scars and tattoos and all.

"I doubt we would have known each other before," Daryl said. "I don't think you would've wanted anything to do with me."

She scoffed, standing from the bed and searching for a fresh shirt and her pants.

"Actually, you would have been exactly my type," she countered. "Still are."

"You don't seem like the type to associate with rednecks."

Stella shrugged as she pulled on her clothes. "I dunno about the redneck part. But the bad boy image, the older man, rough around the edges . . . mmhmm, I would want to jump your bones no matter what the world is like."

Daryl laughed softly, shaking his head.

"Yep, I can see it now," Stella continued. "Maybe you would have come into the bar while I was working. I would have given you heavy pours and I would have made sure to lean over the bar a lot in hopes that you would look down my shirt and become enchanted by my feminine wiles."

Daryl laughed again and began pulling on his own clothes. "Enchanted? I'd probably think you were just trying to get a hefty tip outta me."

Stella grinned. "I'd say something like, 'We close at 2. Wanna stick around and keep me company while I close up?'"

"Girl, you're crazy," Daryl chuckled. "Besides, you wouldn't have gotten to that point, anyway. I probably would've been an asshole to you, like I always was to bartenders, or to anyone, really. I would have lost my charm real quick."

Stella rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm glad you got over being an asshole to everyone. I don't know what you were like then, but I like who you are now."

Daryl's expression turned more serious. "Beth said something like that to me. That night we drank moonshine together. She said, 'You gotta stay who you are. Not who you were.'"

Stella's voice softened. "She's right. I don't know your past, and I'm not going to pry unless you feel like sharing, but I do know that no matter what, we need to keep moving forward. And if you were as big of an asshole back then as you say you were, you should be proud of how much you've grown. You're a good man."

"Thanks," Daryl said earnestly. His lips curved into a side smile. "If the man I was then met the man I am now, he'd beat the shit out of me."

"Good thing that man is trapped in the past then," Stella replied with a wink. She moved over to the kitchen cabinets and fished out a can of chili. "Hungry? I'm always starving after sex."

Daryl laughed and nodded. "I could eat."

Stella flashed him a smile and went about preparing the canned chili. Daryl couldn't stop a smile from appearing on his lips as he watched her. The world may have gone to shit and the future was uncertain, but at the moment, life was good. For the first time in a long while, Daryl felt perfectly content.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Once again, I must state that I do not condone unprotected sex. No glove, no love!<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**This chapter is a little slow, but I promise there will be lots of action in the next chapter! **

* * *

><p>Stella's eyes flickered open. She sighed contentedly when she felt Daryl's arm slung over her side, her back pressed against his warm chest. He had finally forsaken the couch in lieu of sleeping in the bed with her. The feeling of waking up next to him was one she could get used to.<p>

She felt him stir behind her, and she grasped his arm as he attempted to sit up and pull away.

"Just a few more minutes," she murmured. He smiled sleepily and tightened his hold on her small frame. He was surprised by how good simple cuddling felt. Daryl had never been one to cuddle before, but the way Stella's body seemed to mold perfectly against his own felt right.

The night before, they had spent ample time getting intimate with one another. After their first feverish and urgent escapade, Daryl had wanted to take his time with her the second time around. Before long, the second time had turned into the third, proving that their lovemaking had not only been amazing the first time. He felt drunk with her, insatiable, and she felt the same way. It was as if neither of them could get enough of one another.

The fire in the wood stove had burned out overnight, and the treehouse was chilly. Daryl wondered what month it was. He enjoyed the warmth of Stella's body next to his for a few moments more before rising from the bed, despite her look of protest.

"Gotta chop more wood for the stove today," he said, pulling on his shirt. "We're gettin' low."

She nodded and yawned. "I'll fix a little oatmeal for breakfast. We need to make a run soon though. Supplies are getting a little scant."

"I'll go tomorrow," Daryl agreed. He watched Stella as she rose from the bed, her legs bare and her shirt askew. He couldn't resist reaching out to her and pulling her into him. Sharing affection with a woman still felt a little foreign to him, but he couldn't help himself. He cupped her face in his calloused hands and planted a firm kiss on her lips. He felt her press into him on instinct, and he withdrew to see her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Later," he said with a small smile, knowing what she wanted.

She smirked at him and ran her hand over the front of his pants. "I'll hold you to that."

He felt himself stiffening where her hand had touched, and he shook his head, trying his best to ignore it.

"I'll never get anything done with you doing shit like that," he groaned. Stella winked at him and pulled on her jeans. She tossed a few new chunks of wood into the stove and lit the fire to begin preparing breakfast.

"Wouldn't it be nice to just stay in bed all day?" she asked. "No clothes, no inhibitions . . ."

"Sure would," Daryl agreed with a side smile. "But there's shit that needs to get done. Maybe after tomorrow when we've got plenty of wood and supplies."

"Looks like you already have plenty of wood," Stella teased, her eyes darting to the front of his jeans.

"Enough," Daryl said with a grin. She chuckled to herself. Teasing him was too much fun.

After breakfast, Daryl made his way down the ladder to chop wood for the stove. Stella kept him company, reading him short stories from an anthology she particularly enjoyed. Though Daryl had never been much into books or reading, Stella's clear reading voice made the stories much more enjoyable to him.

"How come you won't read me anything you've written?" he asked. Stella had been an aspiring writer for years before the dead began walking, but he hadn't yet read or heard any of her work.

"I dunno," she shrugged. "I don't even know if it's any good anymore. There haven't exactly been many opportunities to get feedback."

"Sounds like a lame excuse to me," he replied. She rolled her eyes and began helping him haul the wood up to the house. Before long, the pile of wood by the door was fully stocked, and the heat from the wood stove provided a nice relief from the cool air outside.

"Might go out hunting for a bit," Daryl said. Stella sauntered over to him and hooked her fingers through his belt loops. She looked up at him, her dark eyes glittering. She pressed her hips into his.

"Are you tryin' to seduce me?" Daryl asked with an amused smile.

"Maybe I am," she replied. "Is it working?"

"What do you think?"

Daryl's lips found hers, kissing her softly and urgently at the same time. His lips traveled down her neck, earning soft, breathy moans as he kissed the sensitive skin above her collarbone. She laced her fingers through his hair as his hands found their way up the back of her shirt. She shivered, amazed by how much her body responded to him. No man had ever been able to make her burn with desire as much as Daryl did.

Suddenly, a sound from outside caused them both to stop. Daryl strained to hear, praying that it wasn't what he thought it was. Stella had heard it, too, her eyes immediately darting toward the door.

"Voices," she hissed, confirming his fears.

Daryl immediately threw open the door and rolled up the ladder as quickly as he could. He returned to the house and locked the door behind him.

"Can you tell which direction they're coming from?" he asked quietly.

Stella shook her head, her eyes wide. "Not for sure. Maybe south? Or west?"

Daryl made sure all the curtains on the windows were closed, leaving only a small slit to see outside. He crossed to the south window and kept his eyes and ears on alert. The voices were faint, but they were growing louder. Finally, he caught sight of them through the trees.

His stomach sank with dread. The men from town. They had stumbled upon he and Stella's home after all. He turned to her, his eyes meeting hers.

"Don't make a sound," he whispered.

He prayed that they would see that the treehouse was unreachable due to the destroyed stairs and move on. Or even that a herd of walkers would happen to pass through and take care of the problem for them. But regardless of what came to pass, he knew one thing for sure. He had to protect Stella.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: These men are not the same men Daryl met up with in season 4 before reaching Terminus. They are similar in their appearance and behavior, but they are a different group. Just wanted to clarify that. :)<br>**


	10. Chapter 10

Stella hastily snatched up her utility belt and put it on, checking to make sure both knives were in their sheaths on the belt. She moved behind Daryl and followed his eyes to the six men who were approaching their house.

"It's them, isn't it?" she whispered.

Daryl gave her a single nod. She rushed to the bedside table and wrenched open the drawer, pulling out a small handgun. It was her only firearm; she always preferred to use her knives when fighting off walkers. Stella checked to make sure it was loaded and turned the safety off.

Daryl moved to a different window, watching the group's approach. As they drew near, he moved away from the window and picked up his crossbow. He held a finger to his lips, his eyes trained on Stella's. They could hear the men's conversation as they came further within earshot.

". . . some sorta treehouse . . ." one of them was saying.

"The fuck happened to the stairs?" another one called.

_Please just move on,_ Daryl thought. They could hear the group walking around beneath the treehouse, checking things out.

"Hey!" one man called out. "There's a water pump over here!"

"Does it work?"

"Yeah!"

"Maybe we oughta camp here tonight. Fresh water's a nice start. And maybe we can find a way to get up to that treehouse, see if there's anything good up there."

_Dammit. _Stella held Daryl's gaze, both sharing similar feelings of dismay.

"Wait a sec . . ." one of the men started. "I think there's someone up there. There's smoke comin' out of the chimney."

"Fuck," Daryl muttered. He hadn't even thought about the wood stove. Stella watched him with wide eyes.

"What do we do?" she hissed quietly.

"You there!" a shout came from below. "We know you're in there. C'mon out and say hello!"

Daryl held up a finger and moved to one of the windows. He peered through the slit in the curtains and tried to assess the situation. They were standing in a group, all studying the treehouse. A few had bags slung over their shoulders, but they seemed to be traveling very low on supplies. All six men appeared to be carrying knives, but Daryl only saw two guns, and one a six-shooter at that. He swiftly moved back to where Stella was standing.

"I only saw two guns," he whispered. "As long as we stay up here and out of their sights, we should be okay."

"Unless they make this their base camp," Stella hissed back. "There's six of them and two of us. They have to know that eventually we'll have to come down. We'll run out of water or food or whatever. We have to do something."

Daryl bit his lip. She was right.

"Maybe we can take them," he murmured.

"What, like kill them?"

"You're telling me you're opposed to that idea?" Daryl grunted.

"No, it's not that. It's just, we're really outnumbered."

"Hey!" a voice shouted from down below. "If you insist on hidin' like a coward, we'll torch the place with you in it!"

Stella's eyes widened. She hadn't thought of that. Her formerly impenetrable fortress seemed much less safe all of a sudden. Daryl loaded his crossbow and started toward the door.

"What are you doing?" Stella whispered.

"Not sure," Daryl replied. "Stay close. If they start shit, shoot them."

Stella swallowed hard, her grip on the handgun tightening. Even with the world the way it was, she had yet to personally kill another living person. James and Tyler had reportedly been attacked near town once, but Stella's only defense against the living thus far was rolling up her ladder out of harm's way. She knew all too well from her friends' stories and Daryl's that many of the people still out there surviving were not good people. These men were threatening to burn her home with her and Daryl inside it. She wasn't about to let that happen like a helpless princess trapped in a tower. She was going to fight for her home.

Daryl unlocked the door and crouched down, motioning for her to do the same. He slowly opened the door a crack and held his crossbow steady and aimed, his eyes locked on the threat that loomed below.

"What do you want?" he called down to the group. The man who he presumed to be their leader stepped forward.

"Looks like you got a nice little setup here. Fresh water, a fire to keep you warm, a place outta harm's way. What do you say you let us come up and stay a while?"

"That ain't gonna happen," Daryl growled.

"Oh, I think it will," the leader continued. "Cause see, if you don't surrender your place to us, we're gonna have to make it so no one can have it." He motioned to one of the men behind him who held a Molotov cocktail of sorts in his hand. Daryl narrowed his eyes.

"Seems a little counterproductive, don'tcha think?" Daryl called down. "Burnin' up a good shelter and rare supplies just cause you couldn't get what you wanted."

The man shrugged. "Sometimes you gotta take what fun you can."

Stella rose slightly behind Daryl, her gun aimed at the leader's forehead. His eyes suddenly darted to her, and a sick smile spread across his face.

"What have we here?" he cawed. "A female! Sweetie, if you know what's good for you, you'll get your man to lower his bow and invite us in. I'll show you a real good time."

Stella didn't respond. Her aim stayed on the man's head, her finger touching the trigger.

"Here's the deal," the leader shouted, his eyes moving back to Daryl. "And this is the last chance I'm offerin', so make your choice quick. One: you give up your place and your shit, and I let you both live. Or two: I torch the place, and when you try to escape, I shoot you and rape your woman till we get sick of her, and then I'll shoot her, too."

The men started sniggering and sharing glances of amusement.

"So what's it gonna be?"

"Fuck you," Daryl sneered.

The leader nodded to the man holding the Molotov cocktail. He held up the lighter to the piece of fabric that was shoved inside the bottle. Daryl waited until the fabric ignited and then swiftly released a bolt into the man's forehead. He collapsed immediately, the bottle he had been holding shattering on impact with the ground and releasing a small explosion of flame.

The two men standing closest to him shrieked as they were burned by the fire. The group's leader immediately reached for the gun in his holster, but before he could seize the weapon, Stella fired hers. She hardly blinked when he went down, turning her gun to another man and firing a shot that went through his shoulder. Daryl opened the door wider and shot a bolt into the head of one of the burn victims.

The second burned man was writhing on the ground in pain. The man who carried the group's second gun drew his six-shooter and fired it twice toward Daryl and Stella, the shots ringing out in quick succession. Daryl felt a sharp pain suddenly sear through his arm. Stella fired her gun at the shooter, who narrowly dodged her bullet and seized the man she had shot through the shoulder, dragging him beneath the treehouse and out of her line of fire.

Stella glanced at Daryl, horrified to see blood streaming down his arm.

"You're hit," she said, wildly looking for something nearby to stop the bleeding.

"I'm fine," Daryl growled, his crossbow still aimed out the door, waiting for the two men cowering beneath the house to make a move.

Suddenly they heard moans and shuffles through the leaves. The noise from the fight had drawn nearby walkers. They stumbled out of the woods and toward the house.

"Shit, shit, shit, man, we gotta go now!" a man's voice said from below the house. Daryl could hear them take off in the opposite direction of the door, and he tore the door open and rushed around the balcony to catch them. He fired a bolt in their direction, missing by almost a foot. The wound in his arm had screamed in pain when he had fired; his accuracy was compromised.

He growled in frustration as the two men disappeared and quickly rounded the balcony again to go back inside, closing the door and locking it behind him just in time to hear the walkers descend on the severely burned man who was screaming on the ground.


	11. Chapter 11

**Just a head's up, there is sexual content in this chapter. If you do not wish to read it, you can skip over the section that has been separated out by the gray lines. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Daryl winced as Stella carefully stitched up the gunshot wound on his arm. She only had a large sewing needle on hand, and the eyed end of the needle made the stitches particularly painful.<p>

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Stop apologizing," Daryl replied quietly.

The bullet from the man's six-shooter had only partially torn through his upper arm, but the wound was severe enough to merit stitches. Daryl stared into the flames of the wood stove as Stella worked. The sounds of several walkers below the house drifted through the floorboards, and Daryl wondered how many of them there were. They had long since finished their meal of the burned man who had been left behind, yet still they lingered.

"All done," Stella murmured.

"Thanks."

Daryl stood and quietly moved to the window. In the darkness below, he could pick out at least eight or nine ghouls wandering aimlessly about. He bent down to the kitchen cabinet and retrieved the bottle of Evan Williams. Wordlessly, he held up a glass to Stella. She nodded, watching him carefully as he poured them both a drink.

The two of them sipped in silence for several long moments. They had hardly spoken since the attack, but neither of them felt much need to do so. They had simply held each other for a long while after the attack had ceased, until Stella insisted that Daryl let her stitch up his wound. His face was stony as he sipped the whiskey, but she could see the anger behind his eyes.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked.

Daryl didn't answer right away, his gaze fixated on the glass in front of him.

"Just thinkin' about what would have happened if I hadn't been here," he finally said. "If you'd been alone."

Stella looked down into her lap, her emotions whirling. If Daryl hadn't been there with her, she would have at the very least lost her home, if not her dignity and her life in the process.

"But you were here," she said gently. "Thank God you were here."

"God ain't got nothin' to do with it."

Stella sighed. "I know. Stupid expression. I don't think I even believe in God anymore."

They were silent for several minutes, the moans of the dead outside infiltrating the house. Daryl thought about the attack on the prison, the attack that had scattered his group and ruined what they'd had. He realized that finding a safe place to live meant someone else would always try to take it, and it had almost happened again.

"It's never gonna stop," he muttered.

"What do you mean?" Stella asked.

"This world. There ain't many safe places left to call home, and there'll always be people out there tryin' to take what you got."

Stella was quiet for a moment before speaking. "This is the first time anyone's ever—"

"And it sure as hell won't be the last," Daryl interrupted. "Just when you think you're safe, and you're happy, someone will be there to try to take it all from you."

"But they didn't," Stella said quietly. "They tried, but they didn't."

"What if I hadn't been here, huh? They would have taken everything you have and more."

Stella reached across the table for Daryl's hand, but he jerked it away. She sighed.

"Stop focusing so much on the what ifs and the bad. The most important thing is that you were here, and we defended our home together."

_Our home,_ Daryl thought. The sound of those two words together was comforting.

"What you should realize," Stella continued, "is that even though they tried to take everything from us, they failed. We fought, and we won."

Daryl's blue eyes found hers. She was always so positive, looking for the good side of things even when things were as bad as they could get. She and Beth were alike in that sense. He studied her, realizing how much he admired her for it. Her strength was inspiring.

"You're right," he said, raising his glass to her and taking a sip. "We won." He hadn't been able to say as much about his last fight for his home, and even though Daryl knew the threat wasn't gone, he forced himself to look at the bright side. Stella grinned at him, her smile warming him more than the whiskey sliding down his throat.

He reached for her, and she stood and pulled him upright into a tight embrace. He kissed her deeply, enjoying the sweet taste of whiskey on her tongue.

"You're more beautiful than life itself," he murmured.

* * *

><p>She took his hands in her own, leading him away from the table and to their bed. Daryl slowly peeled Stella's shirt over her head. Her small, strong hands worked gingerly to remove his shirt as well, careful not to agitate the wound on his arm. He unfastened her bra and drank in the sight of her as it fell to the floor. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close to his bare chest, kissing her tenderly.<p>

Stella leaned backward and lay down on the bed, taking Daryl with her. She ground against him and reveled in the feeling of his weight on top of her. Daryl rose to his knees and ran his calloused fingertips down her body. He kept his icy blue eyes focused on hers as he unfastened her jeans and slowly tugged them off, taking her panties with them. Stella sat up and feverishly brought her lips to his as her hands worked on removing his pants. He kicked them off and climbed back on top of her, running his fingertips up the inside of her thigh to her most sensitive spot. She gasped as he began to rub in small, gentle circles. He knew just the right amount of pressure to apply to drive her wild. He dipped a finger inside her and drew her wetness to her swollen nub, quickening his pace. It didn't take long for Stella to climax. She clapped a hand over her mouth as she came, trying to stifle the sound.

Daryl moved her legs apart with his knee and laced his fingers through hers, pinning her arms above her head. He kept his eyes on hers as he slowly entered her. He filled her to the hilt and stopped, enjoying the feeling of filling her completely. Her lips found his again as he slowly withdrew. Her hips began to rise to meet him in a perfect rhythm, their movements gradual and unhurried. Stella's orgasm was building tantalizingly slowly with each deliberate thrust. Finally she reached her peak, crying out into a pillow as her walls tightened around him. Daryl held her body closer to his as he reached his own release.

* * *

><p>The sounds of the walkers milling around outside brought them back to reality. Stella bit her lip.<p>

"Do you think we made too much noise?" she whispered.

Daryl listened closely for a moment, but the moans outside didn't sound any more concentrated or frenzied than they had before. He shook his head.

Stella sighed in relief and stared into the blue eyes above her.

"I'm not leaving you," Daryl said suddenly.

"What?"

"I mean I'm staying here. With you. If you'll have me, that is . . ."

Stella beamed at him.

"I was hoping you'd never leave."


	12. Chapter 12

Daryl aimed his crossbow and shot a bolt through a biter's head. He reloaded and took down another, systematically clearing the ground below the treehouse one walker at a time. Once the area directly around the treehouse was clear, Stella rolled down the ladder and descended. She ran her knife through the skulls of a few more ghouls that had stumbled over. Daryl followed behind her, using his own blade to dispatch the last few walkers.

"Looks like that's all of 'em," he said, going around and yanking his arrows out of the heads of those he had downed.

Stella couldn't help staring at the remains of the burned man who had been devoured by the dead the night before. There was hardly anything left, just the bones of a person frozen in the fetal position, blood and strings of uneaten flesh clinging to the skeleton.

She snapped out of her trancelike stare and helped Daryl haul the bodies of the dead to a pile away from the treehouse. Despite the cold air outside, she was sweating by the time they were done. Daryl ignited the heap of ghouls and walked back to the house, rinsing his hands beneath the water pump.

"Winter's almost here," Stella stated. The trees had lost a significant amount of leaves, and even though winter in central Georgia was mild, preparations still had to be made to survive the season.

"I'll go on a supply run soon," Daryl said. "Luckily we've got a ton of dried meat stored, so that should last us awhile if things get rough."

"A supply run would be good," Stella agreed. "Once we get an ice storm, the Prius can't really drive on the roads. With no crews to salt the roads, we're pretty much stuck here till the ice melts."

"Might need to go farther this time. That nearby town is gettin' pretty picked over."

"Okay. Maybe in a day or two?"

Daryl nodded, continuing to wash up. Stella watched him for a moment before walking off toward one of her deadfall traps. She hoped the small crowd of walkers from the night before hadn't harmed it. As she approached, she noticed that the trap had been tripped. She felt a tiny burst of excitement as she lifted the trap to see that a raccoon had been crushed by the heavy log. Finally! She had managed to catch a wild animal instead of Daryl. She snatched the raccoon carcass from the trap and jogged back toward the house with a grin on her face.

Her smile immediately died when she saw the scene before her. Daryl was on his knees with his hands raised defensively, and one of the men from the previous day's attack held a small gun to his temple. The second man held Daryl's crossbow aimed at his chest, despite his obvious struggles with his wounded shoulder. Stella dropped the raccoon and froze, unsure whether she should rush to Daryl in a foolish attempt to save him or turn the other way and run.

She didn't have time to decide. The man holding Daryl's crossbow noticed her and aimed the weapon in her direction.

"Just the lass we was hopin' to see," he sneered. "Come here."

Stella stood frozen to the spot, her brain frantically trying to find a way out of the situation.

"Get your ass over here or your boyfriend gets it," the man with the gun ordered.

Stella raised her hands and slowly approached, her eyes meeting Daryl's. She could see the fury in his eyes.

"Y'all thought this was over, didn't you?" the man holding Daryl's crossbow growled. "You killed our friends and left us with nothin'. We think you deserve to pay for what you did."

Stella's eyes darted toward the treehouse, and the man shook his head.

"Nah, we ain't gonna burn your house. But we are gonna take it from you. And we're gonna have a little fun with you first."

Stella remained silent, her eyes moving rapidly between the two men and Daryl.

"Lose the belt," the man with the gun said, nodding toward her utility belt that held her knives. When she hesitated, he pressed the gun harder into Daryl's temple, his eyes threatening to pull the trigger. Stella quickly unfastened the belt, her hands shaking and fumbling with the buckle. It fell to her feet, leaving her vulnerable and unarmed.

"Now get undressed," the man with the crossbow ordered.

"Leave her out of this!" Daryl shouted.

"Shut the fuck up!" his captor commanded. "We're going to have our way with your woman, and you're gonna watch."

"You're sick," Stella hissed.

"Making the men watch is always the best part," the man with the gun sneered. "Knowin' they can't do nothin'."

"So you've done this before," Stella stated more than asked. The man's sick smile was the only answer she needed.

"Undress now, or I put a bullet through his head."

Stella's eyes met Daryl's and she forced herself to be calm. Her face expressionless, she began robotically removing her clothing. The two men whistled as her bare skin was exposed to the cold air. She resisted the urge to spit at them and kept her eyes on Daryl.

The man holding Daryl's crossbow sauntered over, setting the crossbow down on the ground. Stella was glad to see that the shoulder she had shot looked as though it was causing him pain as he moved. He suddenly thrust out his good arm and wrapped his fingers around her throat, forcing her down hard into the dirt. She glanced at the man who held his gun to Daryl's temple, the look in his eyes making her feel dirty. As the man on top of her began unfastening his belt, she noticed that her utility belt was within arm's reach.

Stella caught Daryl's gaze and moved her eyes to the belt and back again, silently communicating her intent. Though he made no move, she could tell that he understood. Her hand crept slowly toward the closest blade on the belt. Her fingers closed around the hilt of the knife as she felt her attacker forcing her legs open.

"Hey, she's—" Daryl's captor started, but Daryl didn't get him a chance to finish before hurling his elbow behind him into the man's groin. Stella tore the knife from its sheath on her belt and swung it at the man on top of her. He stumbled backward, narrowly missing her strike.

Daryl was off his knees and had kicked his captor's gun away. He wasted no time in viciously stomping his boot on the man's face. He swiftly grabbed the man's head in his large hands and twisted, his neck snapping with a crack. He rushed to his crossbow and snatched it off the ground, pointing it at the man who Stella had backed up against a tree with her knife at his throat.

Daryl took aim at the man's head, but Stella held up a hand. Her expression was lethal. Clearly she had other ideas. Daryl shouldered his crossbow and snatched his knife from the ground where he'd been initially disarmed. He stood beside Stella, waiting to see what she would do.

"Keep him against the tree," she said calmly. She removed her blade, and Daryl grabbed the man by his hair and pressed his own knife against his throat.

"How many times have you done this?" she asked casually, as if she were having a regular conversation with someone.

"Wh-what do you mean?" the man stuttered.

"You know exactly what I mean," Stella said icily. "How many women have you raped and murdered?"

"I—I don't . . ."

Stella suddenly seized the man's pants and pulled them down. She positioned her blade beneath the man's testicles. He began breathing frantically, his eyes wide.

"I'll ask you again. How many women have you raped and murdered?"

"I don't know!"

"I think you do," she said, her voice eerily calm and her eyes glittering darkly. "Tell me, and maybe I'll let you keep your manhood."

The man's eyes darted back and forth, his breathing labored. When he did not respond, Stella pressed her blade harder against his balls, earning a squeal from her attacker.

"Lots, okay? Lots! I don't know! I don't remember. Ten? Maybe ten? Please, please, I'm so sorry, it was wrong, I'll never do it again, never!"

"I wish I could believe you," Stella sighed.

Daryl heard the sound of a few walkers shuffling through the woods about a hundred yards away, heading toward the commotion.

"Please, please . . ." the man begged. "I told you, I told you, you said . . ."

"I said _maybe_," Stella said. "I'll tell you what. I won't kill you right now. I'll leave that up to fate. But I can't risk you violating any more women. I think you've lost the right to your own manhood."

"No!" the man yelled, but it was too late. Stella wrenched the blade upward. Her attacker let out a blood curdling shriek, and Daryl felt slightly sick as he watched the man's member and testicles fall to the ground in a bloody pile.

"Good luck," Stella said coldly. Daryl released the man from the tree, and she spat on his shrieking form. She quickly snatched up her utility belt, clothes, and the raccoon she had been carrying earlier.

"Grab the gun," she said. "Let's let those biters do what they do best."

Daryl quickly obliged. He followed her back to the treehouse and climbed up the ladder after her, rolling it up when he was safe on the balcony. She stood by the railing, watching her attacker fumbling to stand and run from the ghouls pursuing him, but the blood loss and pain were rendering him useless. Her face was stony and cold as she watched the dead take him down. Daryl watched her with a mixture of fear, awe, and respect. She was still naked, her body streaked with dirt and blood, and she looked almost feral.

He cautiously slipped his hand into hers and pulled her away from the balcony. She took one last look at the walkers feasting on her would-be rapist before allowing Daryl to lead her inside.


	13. Chapter 13

Stella stormed to one of the windows of the house and watched the dead devouring their prey. Some dark force inside her wanted to watch it happen, as if making sure he hadn't survived was the closure she needed. Daryl cautiously came up behind her and joined her at the window. He said nothing, and Stella could tell that he was keeping his distance from her. She couldn't blame him. What she had just done had shocked even herself.

When she was satisfied that the horrible man was very much dead, she moved away from the window and went over to one of the two closets in the small house. She tugged out a small metal bathtub and hauled it near the stove.

"What are you doing?" Daryl asked quietly.

"Taking a bath," she replied shortly. Even though she had escaped with her dignity intact, she still felt dirty. She couldn't tell if it was because of the close call she had encountered or if it was because of what she had done afterward. She felt Daryl's eyes watching her as she pulled three large pots from the kitchen cabinet and filled them with water. Heating enough water to fill the tub would take a while, which was why she rarely used it, but she needed to feel the heat to feel clean.

Daryl leaned against the wall and watched her as she robotically heated pot after pot of water and poured each into the tub. Her face was stony and cold and her movements purposeful and business-like, and Daryl had no idea what she was feeling or thinking. He found himself feeling a mixture of respect and fear of her. It was one thing to be capable of killing those who threatened you, but it was another thing entirely to take it to the level Stella had.

When she had finally climbed into the steaming water, Daryl moved to sit at the kitchen table beside the tub. She pulled her knees to her chest and closed her eyes, resting her head on her knees. Daryl finally broke the silence.

"I don't know how you're feeling right now, but if you want to talk about it, I'm here . . ."

Stella opened her eyes and looked at him. His expression was undiscernible, but his eyes showed concern. She sighed and chewed on her bottom lip.

"In the past 24 hours, I had my home, life, and dignity threatened twice. I killed my first living person, and I sentenced someone else to death after putting him through as much pain as I possibly could."

"He deserved it—"

"Of course he deserved it," she snapped. "But that's not the point. The point is that despite the things I've done, I feel nothing."

"What do you mean?" Daryl asked.

"I mean, I should feel some kind of remorse, or guilt, or even just simple disappointment in myself for doing what I did. For killing two people. But I don't. I feel nothing."

"Maybe you're in some sorta shock," Daryl said with a frown. "Like you're numb 'cause it just happened."

"I don't think so," Stella shook her head. "I still feel angry at those horrible men for what they tried to do, but that's all. I feel calm, I feel collected. Like killing them was normal. And that scares me."

Daryl sighed and ran a hand over his face. He understood somewhat what Stella meant.

"This world, the way it is, it makes us different people," he said. "I never would've thought about killin' anyone before, but now, I don't think twice about it. You can't. It's kill or be killed."

"I get that, but killing without feeling . . . am I a monster?"

Daryl stood from the table and kneeled by the tub, taking her face in his hands and looking into her eyes.

"No. It just means you're strong."

She gave him a half smile and a bit of a scoff.

"Life is so fucked up these days."

"What happened to celebrating life and stayin' positive?" Daryl asked. "You're one of the most amazing people I've ever met. You do what needs to be done, and at the end of the day, you're still able to find the good in everything. You can't lose that."

Stella nodded. Daryl planted a kiss on each of her cheeks and sat down next to the tub. The feeling of him near her comforted her, and she felt safe.

"I need to explain something," she said. "Why I was so harsh on the man who tried to have his way with me."

Stella glanced at Daryl, his blue eyes reassuring.

"I was raped once, when I was nineteen. I was in college, and I went to a party and had too much to drink. This guy had been bothering me all night, and it ended up being his room that I eventually passed out in, completely unintentionally. I said 'no' so many times and tried to fight him off, but I was too drunk, and he had his way with me pretty easily. After it happened, it took me a while to come forward about it. I told my best friend at the time, and she urged me to report it to the police. Thing was, it was my word against his, and he insisted that I had given consent. Lots of people saw me at the party that night, and they knew how drunk I had been . . . basically, it was a big mess, and the guy ended up getting off scot free. I saw him around campus until I graduated, and I was so angry at him for getting away with what he'd done. I always fantasized about what I would do to him if I could, to make him pay . . ."

She stopped and shook her head, as if trying to shake the memory from her mind.

"It took me almost a full year to be okay with having sex with anyone again, and I'm still not okay with the fact that it happened. I guess that's why I kind of went overboard when it almost happened again. I just saw red, and I knew I had to make him pay like that asshole years ago never did."

Daryl was silent for a few moments, a frown on his face.

"That's fucked up," he finally said. "I don't know what to say. No one should have to go through that."

"But women do," she said. "All the time. Then, now, and forever."

Daryl wrapped his arms around her shoulders and drew her close to him. She breathed in his familiar scent of sweat and masculinity.

"Not from him anymore," he said. "No woman will be violated by him again. You took care of that."

Stella smiled slightly. "Yeah."

Daryl kissed her softly on the forehead.

"You and me, we're gonna be okay," he said. "When it feels like it's us against the world, the world should be afraid. Nobody messes with us and gets away with it."

Stella smiled. She knew Daryl was just trying to make her feel better, but she hoped he was right. Whatever was ahead, she hoped she and Daryl could handle it together.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Sadly, sexual assault is a common thing. Too many women have had to endure it, myself included. If you are one of those women, don't hesitate to call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-HOPE (4683). To stop further sexual assaults from happening, we have to talk about it. I hope none of you have to experience that, but if you do, you are not alone.<strong>


	14. Chapter 14

Daryl prowled through the woods, feeling satisfied that he had found no signs of human life anywhere near the treehouse. He made his way back toward the house, his eyes and ears still on alert.

It had been almost a week since their last run-in with the men, and Daryl needed to make a supply run before winter weather forced them to stay put. He had combed the woods near the house all morning to make sure no one was lurking nearby. He hated the thought of leaving Stella alone, lest someone else attack the house. But the supply run was absolutely necessary.

Stella was finally almost back to her usual self. It had taken her a few days to stop being morose and short-tempered, but Daryl couldn't blame her. He was glad to see her smiling again, he just hoped it was genuine.

As he approached the house, he spotted Stella hauling a water jug up to the house. He had offered to haul the water up for her, but since his arm had been injured, she had insisted on doing the heavy lifting. She had removed his stitches that morning, but still stubbornly declared she would take care of getting water.

"Woods are clear," Daryl said as she came back down the ladder.

"Good," she nodded. She looked up, observing the gray clouds covering the sky. "Think those clouds will have any rain or snow?"

"Couldn't say," Daryl shrugged. "I don't think so. But I better go, just in case."

"What I wouldn't give to still have Doppler radar . . ." Stella sighed. Daryl gave her a small smile.

"Any requests this time?"

She shook her head. "You have the list of essentials, right?"

He fished the piece of paper out of his pocket and held it up. "Yeah."

She approached him and handed him the keys to the Prius. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"Make sure you come back in one piece," she said.

Daryl gave her a single nod. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her hard. He broke away and leaned his forehead against hers. He stared into her eyes for a brief moment before stepping back from her and turning to walk to the car. She watched the angel wings on the back of his vest as he moved away, feeling vulnerable. She waited until he was out of sight before heading up into the treehouse and withdrawing the ladder behind her.

* * *

><p>Daryl kept his eyes open for signs of any human life as he drove. The town closest to the treehouse was nearly void of supplies, and he had siphoned as much gas as he could find in town. He was approaching the next town over, which was about thirty miles from the treehouse.<p>

The town looked like all the rest as he entered the city limits. It was a ghost town, slightly larger than the one closest to home. He drove slowly and kept an eye out for walkers and people alike. He drove through the deserted streets until he came to a small strip mall. He took a quick inventory of the useful stores: a grocery store, a GNC, and a hardware store.

Daryl pulled the car into the parking lot and looked around. There were several cars scattered throughout the lot, but most looked as though they had been there for some time. When he was sure no one was lurking about, he exited the car and made his way to the closest store: the GNC.

He tapped his knuckle on the glass door of the store and waited. When no dead came stumbling to the door to greet him, he smashed the glass in with the butt of his crossbow. He reached in and unlocked the door and quickly moved inside. Daryl grabbed a shopping basket and began filling it with vitamin supplements. In the coming winter months, the supplements would be helpful if food became scarce. When the basket was full, he headed back to the door, his crossbow at the ready.

He noticed a few walkers wandering around the far side of the parking lot, but they hadn't seemed to have noticed the sound of the glass breaking at the GNC. He quickly moved back to the car and stashed the loot inside. The next stop was the hardware store.

The glass windows in the front of the store had already been smashed in some time ago. Daryl cautiously ducked inside. It was dark inside the store, and the light coming in through the windows only partially illuminated the aisles. Daryl crept silently toward the first aisle, looking for anything useful, whether it be weaponry or general hardware.

Suddenly something dropped to the floor near the back of the store. Several moans erupted from around the building, and the ghouls began shuffling toward whatever had made the sound. Daryl heard a voice.

"How many?"

He narrowed his eyes and strained to listen, hearing someone else whispering in response. The voice had sounded like a woman's. He tread quietly through the store, swiftly dispatching a walker who had crossed paths with him with his knife. He followed the sounds of the fight toward the back of the store where the people were fending off the dead.

The back of the store was dark, and Daryl could barely see the small crowd of biters in front of him. The people on the other side of the crowd were taking them down with what he assumed to be knives. When he determined that there couldn't be more than two of them, he joined the fight, taking down three walkers in quick succession with his crossbow. The other people finished off the final two ghouls, and Daryl heard a gun being pulled from a holster. He aimed his crossbow into the semi-darkness, struggling to make out their faces.

"Stop right there," a voice demanded.

Daryl froze. That voice was familiar.

He took a single step forward.

"I said stop!" the voice said.

Daryl hoped it hadn't been just been his hopeful ear. It had to be her.

". . . Maggie?" he asked.

The person aiming the gun lowered it and rushed forward. The faint light illuminated her face, her expression one of disbelief.

"Daryl?" she asked. He nodded and lowered his crossbow just in time for Maggie to seize him in an abrupt hug.

He watched behind her as Glenn emerged from the shadows. He felt a flood of relief and happiness wash over him when he realized that they had both made it out of the prison alive, and together.

"Is it just you two?" he asked.

"Yeah," Glenn replied. "We got separated from the group . . ."

The group. Separated. That meant . . .

"They're alive? Others made it?"

Glenn nodded and gave him a partial smile. They had a lot to catch up on.


	15. Chapter 15

**This chapter is somewhat of a filler. I had to work lots of overtime this weekend (salary is a bitch, they make you work OT and don't pay you for it!), so I didn't have a lot of time to write this chapter. I wanted to get it out before the new episode of Walking Dead airs tonight, however! Enjoy (both the chapter and the episode)!**

* * *

><p>Glenn placed the last load of supplies in the Prius and shut the hatchback. The three of them had looted the grocery store and hardware store together, and now both Stella's Prius and the minivan Glenn and Maggie had been traveling in were loaded with supplies.<p>

Daryl had wasted no time in inviting Glenn and Maggie back to the treehouse. The couple had been searching for a safe place to spend the winter after they had become separated from the rest of the group, and Stella's house high off the ground sounded like a godsend. Glenn had promised to fill Daryl in on everything that had happened in the past months they had spent apart, but their first goal was to get home safely with all their supplies.

Daryl hadn't told them much about Stella, only how they had found each other, and he wondered how they would react when they realized the extent of their relationship. He hoped he hadn't overstepped his bounds by inviting Glenn and Maggie back to the house without consulting her first, but he was sure that she would be as glad as he was for extra bodies to help defend their home and survive the winter.

He pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive home, and he couldn't help but smile when he glanced back in his rearview mirror to see the other couple following behind him. Though he didn't know the details yet, they had informed him of who had survived the attack on the prison, and he found himself getting a little emotional thinking about it. They said they had been separated from the group for a few weeks, and they had been both searching for them and for a place to spend the winter.

Daryl had told them about Beth, and Maggie's despair over her sister's kidnapping had been heartbreaking. He mentally kicked himself for not searching harder. The fact that he had discovered no leads was disheartening, and winter would only slow or completely hinder his search. He tried not to feel like he had let her down, but it was a hard thought to shake.

He tried to follow Stella's way of thinking and stay positive, his eyes flickering between the road in front of him and the couple following behind.

* * *

><p>Stella looked up from the book she was reading and strained her ears. She thought she had heard footsteps walking through the woods, but it had been faint, and she wasn't sure. She stood and went to the window, her eyes on alert. Finally, Daryl's form emerged from the trees, but he was not alone.<p>

Her first instinct was to grab her gun, but then she realized that the people who were walking with Daryl didn't seem to be threatening him. No one had weapons pointed at anyone, and Daryl still had his crossbow slung over his back. Furthermore, all three of them carried a heavy load of supplies.

She rushed to the door and stepped out on the balcony. Daryl smiled when he saw her.

"Hope you don't mind that I brought some company," he called up to her. "This is Glenn and Maggie."

Stella's eyes widened. "_The _Glenn and Maggie? From your group?"

"Oh, we're famous," Glenn said with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Stella."

Stella scrambled to the ladder and rolled it down. She quickly clambered down it and walked to the newcomers with a smile on her face. She knew how important these people had been to Daryl before they had met, and if his stories were to be believed, both were formidable fighters and good company.

"It's great to meet you," she said. "Welcome."

"Why don't you guys drop off your loads of supplies and go back for another load?" Daryl suggested. "We'll start hauling it up to the house."

Glenn and Maggie nodded in agreement and unburdened themselves from the bags they were carrying. They walked back toward the cars to grab more loot.

Stella snatched a few bags off the ground to carry up to the house. "How did you find them?" she asked.

"They were in a hardware store," Daryl replied as he grabbed the rest of the bags on the ground. "I hope it's okay that I invited them to stay . . ."

"Are you kidding? Of course it's okay. They can help us defend the house, and I have to say I'm rather ecstatic to have another girl around. It's been almost two years since I've had any female company."

Daryl smirked at her, feeling very thankful that she was okay with the couple staying. He followed her up the ladder to the house and set down the bags of supplies.

"We'll have to figure out sleeping arrangements, though," Stella observed as she looked around the house. "When it was four of us in the beginning, we took turns sleeping in the bed, the couch, and on the floor. We could do something like that I suppose."

Daryl reached out and grabbed Stella's hips, pulling her into him and hugging her from behind.

"Thanks for being so accommodating," he murmured, slightly sarcastic.

"They're important to you, so they're important to me," she shrugged. "And I really am excited for their company. Not that yours isn't . . . _stimulating _enough," she winked. "But seriously. Two years without a fellow female around has been rough."

Daryl planted a kiss on her cheek, his facial hair scratching her skin. She suddenly realized that finding alone time with him would be much more difficult, but the benefits of having extra people around far outweighed the downsides.

Someone cleared their throat in the doorway of the house, and Daryl and Stella abruptly broke apart to see Maggie and Glenn standing on the balcony, their arms laden with bags of loot and supplies.

"Sorry, please come in!" Stella said. Daryl tried to ignore the look Maggie was giving him and wordlessly reached to grab the bags she was carrying. He began putting the supplies away, feeling suddenly awkward.

"A wood stove!" Glenn exclaimed excitedly. He set down the bags he was carrying and rushed over to it, warming his hands near it. Stella grinned.

"Yep. So this is it. This is home."

"This is quite the place you have here," Maggie observed.

"Yeah. The woodstove keeps the house warm in the colder months, and we can cook over it as well. And since we destroyed the stairs way back when this all started, the only way up is by ladder, which can be rolled up and out of reach in case of passing herds or human threats."

Daryl shared a glance with Stella as she said the words "human threats." Maggie noticed the look they shared, but said nothing.

"We'll have to figure out sleeping arrangements," Stella continued. "When the world first went to shit, there were four of us here, and we just took turns sleeping on the bed and couch and floor."

"To be honest, the floor in a house out of reach of walkers still sounds like the best bed I've had in weeks," Glenn sighed.

"It's definitely nice to be out of their reach," Stella agreed. "Herds do sometimes pass through, and when that happens we just have to stay put and stay quiet and they move on. We try to always make sure we have plenty of water on hand in case that happens."

"Oh yeah, you have a water pump down there, too!" Maggie said excitedly. It was clear that the treehouse seemed like a haven to Maggie and Glenn.

"Are you hungry?" Stella asked. "It's getting close to dinner time, I could fix us up something to eat."

"That would be amazing," Maggie said with a smile. "Thank you."

Daryl sat down at the kitchen table as he finished putting away the supplies and looked to Maggie and Glenn.

"I think it's time we filled each other in on what's happened these past few months," he said.

Glenn nodded and joined him at the table, Maggie following. Stella busied herself in the kitchen area, but she kept her ears open to listen. As the couple began to tell their story of how they found one another after the fall of the prison, and the horrors of Terminus that followed, she found herself feeling very thankful that her hardships hadn't anywhere near equaled theirs. She prayed that with Daryl and these two new people by her side, they wouldn't have to endure the terrors many people of the world seemed to be experiencing.


	16. Chapter 16

The icy cold water numbed Stella's hands as she vigorously scrubbed the clothing in the wash basin in front of her. Maggie sat beside her and assisted with the laundry. Stella glanced over to where Glenn was chopping wood for the stove about a hundred yards away. Daryl was off hunting in the woods, and Stella couldn't help thinking how patriarchal their current chores were.

The previous night had been strange for Stella. She and Daryl had insisted that Glenn and Maggie sleep in the bed, since it had been quite some time since they had slept in a real bed. Stella had bedded down on the couch, and Daryl had fished out an old sleeping bag from the closet and slept near the foot of the couch. She had resisted the urge to crawl into the sleeping bag with him, and instead tossed and turned on the couch for a large portion of the night. She was still quite tired and groggy, even though it was now late morning.

Glenn looked up from his chopping and shared a smile with Maggie. Stella watched them, feeling appreciative that people were still able to find love in the world.

"Daryl told me about you and Glenn," she said. "I think it's amazing that you have each other."

Maggie smiled. "Yeah. At first, it was just because it was convenient. He was around my age, and it wasn't like either of us had other options. But then it became so much more than that. I don't know what I'd do without him."

"You give me hope," Stella said. "It's comforting to know that love can still exist."

Maggie was quiet for a moment before looking up from the shirt she was scrubbing.

"So, you and Daryl . . .?"

Stella couldn't stop the devious smile from spreading across her lips.

"Yeah. He was being chased by a huge herd of walkers, and I made a split second decision to save his life. It was probably one of the best decisions I've made."

"So you're like . . . together?" Maggie asked. She was clearly fishing for information.

"Yes. No. Sort of. I don't know," Stella shook her head with a laugh. "We just have this chemistry. The tension was building for a couple weeks before we finally slept together. And now I can't imagine things any different."

Maggie let out a stifled laugh. Stella narrowed her eyes and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing! It's just . . . I sort of can't imagine Daryl with anyone. Intimately, I mean."

"Why not? I have to confess that I was imagining myself 'with' Daryl pretty soon after meeting him!"

Maggie laughed again, and Stella shared a mischievous grin with her new friend.

"I'm not saying he's unattractive or anything," Maggie clarified. "It's just that he's so . . . rough around the edges, you know? He never really wants to get close to anyone, or anything like that. If you'd known him a while ago like I did, you'd be surprised, too!"

"Well, now you're making it sound like it was a huge accomplishment to successfully seduce him!"

The two girls snickered. Maggie threw a glance toward Glenn, who had heard them laughing. He smiled at her and went back to what he was doing.

"Is it completely inappropriate for me to ask how he is in bed?" Maggie suddenly blurted out.

Stella grinned. "I always say there's no place for modesty in the apocalypse." She lowered her voice, knowing Daryl could probably be lurking in the woods nearby and she would never know he was there. "The first time, it was rough. Good rough. Like we were both getting out all the sexual frustration we'd been feeling for weeks. He definitely likes to be dominant, but he's not always that way. We've also taken things slow. But no matter how we do it, I always get what I need."

Maggie flushed a little and grinned. Even though she and Stella had just met the day before, Stella was so thankful to have a female companion around that it felt as though they had known each other for longer.

"I'm happy for you guys," Maggie said. "Daryl has needed someone like you for a long time, but he probably didn't want to admit it to himself. I think you're good for each other."

"Thanks," Stella replied with a smile. "I hope you're right."

* * *

><p>Daryl approached the area near the treehouse and observed the scene in front of him. Glenn was chopping wood for the stove, and Maggie and Stella were gathered around the wash bin doing laundry. They seemed to be bonding, as they were chatting and sharing smiles and laughs. He felt happy that the two of them got along well.<p>

He made his way over to Glenn, who looked up as he approached.

"Looks like you got dinner for tonight," he observed as he noticed the two dead rabbits Daryl was holding. Daryl nodded and looked toward the girls.

"They seem to be hitting it off," he said.

"Yeah," Glenn agreed. "They've been all smiles since they started talking. Who knew gabbing over laundry could be so entertaining?"

Daryl scoffed a little. "Women."

Glenn wedged the ax into a large piece of wood and moved closer to Daryl, lowering his voice suddenly.

"There's something you should know, that I didn't bring up last night around Stella," he said quietly. Daryl arched an eyebrow in response and glanced toward the girls. They seemed to be absorbed in their own world.

"Yeah?"

"Me and Maggie . . . we were trying to track down the rest of the group before we ran into you. We think we may have found a lead of sorts. It's slim, but it's something."

"What is it?" Daryl asked. Any lead was better than nothing.

"We kept finding grocery stores where the stock of baby formula had been looted. I know it's a longshot; there could definitely be other groups with babies traveling out there, but it's something. Based on the locations of the stores we found, it seems like the group had been traveling north."

Daryl nodded, taking in the information.

"Daryl, I know you have something great here," Glenn said, his tone softening a little, "and it's a great place to spend the winter. But come spring, Maggie and I want to resume our search for the group. They're like family to us now, and since we might have a good idea what direction they were headed, we have to keep searching."

Daryl nodded again, his eyes on Stella and Maggie happily chatting together.

"It would be great if you would come along," Glenn continued. "It's safer on the road with more eyes and able hands to fight off threats, and your tracking skills would be invaluable."

Daryl was silent, his thoughts whirling. He knew what he had to do.

"Maybe Stella would also want to come along?" Glenn ventured, sensing his resistance. "I don't want to ask you to leave her; it's clear you guys have something going on. But I need to know what your plan is once spring gets here."

"Don't know about Stella," Daryl shrugged. "But I'll come with you."

He hated the thought of leaving Stella, and he would ask her to come along on the search, but Daryl knew that if it came down to it and Stella refused to leave, he would have to choose his group over her. His allegiance had been to them first. He just prayed that Stella would agree to leave with him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Head's up, there is sexual content in this chapter. If you do not wish to read it, skip over the section outlined in gray lines. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"We'll be back soon," Maggie said as she shut the door to the treehouse behind her.<p>

"I still don't understand why they're going on another run," Stella said to Daryl. She placed the last dirty breakfast dish in the wash basin and looked at him.

"They just forgot a few things," Daryl shrugged. It was the partial truth. The reality was that Daryl had asked Glenn and Maggie to give him and Stella some privacy so that he could ask her about leaving once spring arrived. He wanted to hear her full thoughts on the matter, and he feared having Maggie and Glenn around would make her say something she didn't truly feel.

He moved beside her and began drying the newly washed dishes, setting them in a stack on the counter. He wasn't sure how to go about bringing up the subject. It was a touchy topic, and he feared that the conversation wasn't going to be pretty. After all, he had recently told her that he would stay with her if she would have him, and he dreaded the possibility of having to go back on his word.

He cleared his throat. Stella turned to him and put her hands on her hips.

"Okay, what's up?" she demanded. "Everyone has been acting weird all morning."

Daryl sighed. "We need to talk."

Stella arched her eyebrows. "Those words never lead to something good."

Daryl chewed his bottom lip for a moment, wondering how to begin. He decided not to beat around the bush and to get straight to the point.

"Maggie and Glenn have a lead on where the rest of our group went," he stated. "Granted, it's a small lead, but it's a lead nonetheless."

Stella mulled over the news, a million thoughts racing through her head.

"So you're leaving then," she stated more than asked.

"Not till spring," Daryl replied. "And I was really hoping that you would agree to come along with us."

Stella let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Her eyes roamed the treehouse, taking in everything that made it home. It had been a home for her since she was a small child, and a haven since the world had ended. The thought of leaving the place gave her an ache in her heart.

"You're going to make me choose? Between you and my home?"

Daryl sighed and ran a hand over his face in frustration.

"I wish you wouldn't see it like that."

"But it is like that," she countered. "That's exactly what it is. A choice. You, or this place."

She bit her lip and thought about the consequences of leaving. From the stories she'd heard from Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn, life on the road was hard. It was dangerous, scary, and rough. Stella had not lived on the road like they had. She didn't know if she even possessed the strength to do it. She knew she was a solid fighter when it came to fending off the dead, but it had almost always been on her home turf, where she could flee to the treehouse and roll up the ladder if the threat was too great. Could she handle a heavy fight on the road where there was nowhere to run? And furthermore, could she handle not having a place to call home?

On the other hand, she thought about what would happen if she didn't leave. Come spring, Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn would leave, and if she stayed, she would be alone in the house again. Left to defend the house alone, and left with no human company. She thought about the long weeks she had spent by herself before Daryl had arrived, and the thought of endless solitude seemed worse than the dangers of life on the road.

Maybe they wouldn't have to be on the road long. Maybe they would find Daryl's lost group and they would have some sort of safe place set up. She tried not to think about the possibility of never finding them or of dying of one of many threats on the road. She couldn't think that way.

Leaving her home would break her heart, but the thought of losing Daryl made her heart ache more. She still wasn't sure what her feelings were for him, but she knew she wasn't ready to lose him.

"Okay," she finally said. "I'll go."

Daryl's eyes widened. "You're sure?"

"Yes," she said resolutely.

* * *

><p>Daryl wasted no time in grabbing her by the hips and kissing her fiercely. She kissed back with equal force, their fervor knocking several plates off the counter. Daryl hadn't realized how much he needed her to say she would go with him, and now he needed her physically as well. His hands roughly lifted her shirt from her body and tossed it to the floor, and she followed suit with his shirt. Her fingers tore at his belt buckle and the button on his jeans before hurriedly tugging them down. She wrapped her small hand around his length and began sliding it up and down, appreciating his hardness. He groaned and worked on removing her jeans and panties. They were down and off her legs in mere seconds.<p>

Daryl's large hands cupped her ass and hoisted her off the ground, setting her down on the edge of the kitchen counter. She wrapped her legs around his body and gasped when he roughly grabbed her by the hair and kissed her once more. With a single hard thrust, he was inside her, filling her completely. Stella cried out, her nails digging into the skin on his back. The items on the kitchen counter rattled with each of Daryl's slow yet forceful thrusts. Stella locked her ankles behind his back and ran her fingers through his hair as he moved in and out of her. She finally climaxed hard, her labored breathing making her dizzy. Daryl's pace quickened, and soon after, he reached his own climax. Stella tightened her legs around him as he came, needing to feel as close as possible to him as he reached his release.

* * *

><p>Daryl leaned his forehead against Stella's as he caught his breath. After several long moments, he pulled away, surveying the damage the two of them had done to the kitchen.<p>

"Remind me to clean the counter before Maggie and Glenn get back," Stella observed.

Daryl laughed. He felt immensely thankful that he didn't have to give this woman up. His group was his family, but she was something else entirely. He wasn't sure what their relationship was, or if it could even be defined, but he was relieved that it didn't have to have a definite expiration date.


	18. Chapter 18

Stella watched out the window as the freezing rain pelted down around the treehouse outside. It had been raining for the better part of the day, and now that temperatures had dropped below freezing, the rain was turning everything outside to ice. She rubbed her arms and felt incredibly thankful that they were all warm and snug inside the treehouse. Winter had definitely arrived.

It had been a little over two weeks since Stella had agreed to leave the treehouse come spring. Now that she knew she was going to have to leave, it seemed that time was flying by, and she wished it would slow down. She tried to savor the short months left with her home. She found herself wishing for a long winter, but mentally scolded herself for such a selfish wish. A long winter might mean more time with her home, but the longer they stayed here, the farther away the rest of the group could be moving.

Stella sighed and came away from the window. Daryl was making arrows at the kitchen table, and Glenn and Maggie were reading. Suddenly Glenn heaved a sigh and tossed his book to the side.

"Stella, I love that you have so many books, but I'm just not much of a reader. Cards anyone?"

"Oh yes, absolutely," Stella agreed, thankful for something to relieve her boredom.

Glenn fished a pack of cards out of his backpack. He had found them on the last run to town he had made about a week prior with Daryl. The group had everything they needed to get through the winter, and thankfully Glenn had also remembered to address their entertainment needs.

Maggie placed a bookmark in the book she was reading and rose from her spot on the bed with a stretch. She and Stella had become quite close in the past few weeks. It was extremely refreshing to have another female friend around, and thankfully the two women shared a similar sense of humor and interests. Stella didn't doubt that the two of them would have been likely friends even in the normal world.

"Daryl, you in?" Stella asked as she sat down at the kitchen table.

"Sure, why not," he muttered, clearing the table of the wood shavings from his arrow in progress.

Maggie went over to the kitchen area and dug around through the cabinets. She pulled out a bottle of Jameson that Daryl had nabbed on their last supply run.

"Want to make the game a little more interesting?" she asked with a devious smile.

Stella grinned back at her in response.

"Normally, I'd say drinking games in the zombie apocalypse are a bad idea, but up here in this treehouse, I'm game," Glenn said.

Stella arched her eyebrows at Daryl, but he shook his head in response.

"I'll play sober," he said. "Just in case."

Stella wrinkled her nose at him. "No fun."

He sighed. "I'll have a little, but not enough to get drunk. Someone has to have their wits about them if trouble shows up."

Maggie brought four glasses to the table and filled each with a small amount of whiskey. Since they had no mixers, they would have to take tiny sips when forced to drink.

"If we're playing drinking games, we really don't even need cards," Maggie said. "Have you ever played 'I never'—"

"Not that game," Daryl grunted.

Maggie frowned. "Afraid someone will find out something you never did?"

Daryl shook his head. "The last time I played . . . the only time I played. It was with your sister."

Maggie's expression grew somber. "Oh." She looked down into her lap, and Stella wished Beth could be here with them. Suddenly Maggie looked back up at Daryl with her eyes narrowed. "You played a drinking game with Beth?"

"Back down, older sister," Daryl said with his hands raised in the air. "She was determined to have her first drink. Was gonna go out on her own to look for it, so I helped her find one."

"So, what, you took her to a bar?"

"Nah," Daryl shook his head. "A moonshine still."

"You gave my little sister moonshine?!"

"Chill out," Daryl said defensively. "She helped me let go of some shit I'd been holding onto my whole life. I guess you could say we had a heart to heart of sorts. And then we burned it down."

"Burned what down? The still?"

"Yeah."

Maggie gaped at him, absorbing the information that her little sister had gotten drunk off moonshine and then burned down a building. Her face broke into a small, sad smile.

"I guess I still think of her as a kid, you know?" she said. "But she's not."

"No, she ain't," Daryl agreed. He looked Maggie in the eyes. "I'm gonna find her. _We're _gonna find her."

Maggie nodded, as if trying to convince herself. Glenn took her hand and squeezed it. Maggie sighed and shook her head, trying to rid the negative thoughts from her mind.

"Okay, so no 'I never.' Let's stick with cards. Anyone have any suggestions?"

"How about Bullshit?" Glenn suggested. Maggie nodded and gave him a small smile.

As Glenn began dealing out the cards, Stella reached under the table and put her hand on Daryl's thigh. He glanced at her and smiled, placing his hand on top of hers.

The rest of the afternoon went by quickly, and the group was having fun. By the time they finished their game, Stella and Maggie were quite tipsy, while Glenn and Daryl remained somewhat sober. They put away the whiskey and continued playing card games until long after it grew dark outside, taking a break only for dinner.

As Stella curled up next to Daryl in bed that night, Glenn and Maggie taking their turns on the couch and floor, she thanked her stars for such good company to spend the winter with. Stella was terrified of what would come once spring arrived, but at the moment, she was very thankful for the new friends she had made, the roof over her head, the fire in the wood stove keeping them warm, and most of all, the man who was holding her in his arms.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: Sorry this chapter is a little short. Also, I will be unable to update the next day or two because of Thanksgiving plans. But come Friday or Saturday, the next chapter will be posted. It will be skipping ahead in time, so this is probably a good place to take a tiny hiatus from my daily updates. Thanks for reading! :)<strong>


	19. Chapter 19

**Two Months Later**

Daryl heaved another load of supplies into the back of the Prius and turned to take the load Stella was carrying, placing it inside with the rest of the supplies. He closed the car door and pulled her in for a hug. He knew this was hard for her, but she was being very amicable about the whole thing. He could tell most of her attitude was forced.

As soon as the weather had begun to warm, the group had started gathering supplies for the road. Winter had not lasted long enough for Stella, but she was holding to her commitment to leave with the group now that spring had arrived. She and Daryl were on the last supply run for their trip. They had traveled to a town that was about thirty-five miles away from the treehouse in hopes of finding supplies that had not yet been picked over by other survivors. So far, they had been quite lucky, and they had managed to find some canned food in an abandoned house, first aid supplies, and even a loaded handgun. The handgun had no extra rounds, but anything helped.

Since they had no idea how long they would be on the road, their plan was to take as much supplies as possible. They would have to take both cars to accommodate the supplies and travelers, which would be slightly problematic since the Prius got much better gas mileage than the van, but they had agreed that if things got too difficult with both vehicles, they would re-evaluate what to take and consolidate their supplies to one vehicle.

Stella pulled away from Daryl's embrace and gave him a sad smile. Daryl never knew what to say to make her feel better about leaving her home. He just made sure to make it known how appreciative he was of her sacrifice.

"We should head back," Stella sighed.

"Think Maggie and Glenn are done going at it?" Daryl smirked.

Stella laughed lightly. "Probably not. I'm sure they're going to take advantage of every last minute of alone time."

"Maybe we should do the same," Daryl said suggestively, pulling her body close to him.

Stella glanced at the few walkers wandering about the town. They were far away, but moving toward the sound of their voices. She sighed.

"Not the most opportune of places."

Daryl settled for a long, close-mouthed kiss before breaking away and getting into the driver's seat of the car. Stella walked around and got in the passenger seat. The dead were shambling closer, but the car easily moved around them and left them behind as Daryl drove away.

Stella leaned her forehead against the window and watched the town pass by. She tried not to think about leaving the next day. The thought of going out into the unknown terrified her, but she was trying her best to stay strong.

Suddenly, something caught her eye outside the window.

"Stop!" she exclaimed. Daryl braked abruptly.

"What is it?"

"Look," she said, pointing out the window. Daryl followed her gaze to a retirement home.

"An old folks home?" he asked skeptically. "What's so great about that?"

"Not the home. The bus," Stella said. Daryl suddenly noticed what she had been pointing at. It looked like a cross between a bus and a van. The long white vehicle had _Hickory Hill Retirement Community _written down the side.

"We could fit all our supplies in that, and only take one vehicle," she said with a large smile.

"Good eye, girl," Daryl agreed, pulling into the parking lot of the retirement home.

They glanced around the outside of the home before getting out of the car, but it seemed to be void of walkers. Daryl approached the bus and peered in the windows. He could see rows of seats, but no one inside. He moved around to the driver's side door and opened it, shuffling around inside.

"No keys," he called. "They must be inside."

Stella felt a pang of anxiety at the thought of going inside the retirement home. There would definitely be walkers inside. But the bus was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

"Okay. I guess we're going in."

"Try not to make a sound," Daryl instructed. "Hopefully we can get in and out without drawing much attention."

The front doors were automatic, so Daryl hastily grabbed a crowbar that they had recently found to open them. He cranked the first set of doors open and then the second, shoving the crowbar through his belt to use as a potential weapon. His crossbow was loaded and aimed as he silently entered the building with Stella on his heels.

It was dark inside the building, and the smell of death and decay lingered everywhere. Daryl clicked on a small flashlight and held it between his teeth as he moved. The building was quiet, but they could hear the shuffling sounds of walkers somewhere in the building. Stella's heart pounded, and she was sure it was beating so loud that it would attract the walkers to them.

Daryl's flashlight illuminated a front desk of sorts with a door behind the desk that read "Office." He pointed to the door, signaling that she should search for the keys inside while he kept guard. Stella's grip on her knife tightened as she crept behind the desk. Suddenly, a rotting hand reached out from under the desk and seized her ankle, causing her to stumble and fall. Stella barely kept a yelp from escaping her lips and kicked at the thing that had a hold of her. She twisted around and jammed her knife into the biter's head. She released herself from its grip and stood to see Daryl looking down at her with his crossbow held steady. She gave him a single nod to show that she was okay and approached the office door.

With a deep breath, she quickly turned the knob and opened the door. Two ghouls who had been hiding inside instantly made a grab for her, but Daryl quickly dispatched one with an arrow, and Stella used her knife to put down the other. Daryl retrieved his arrow and went to stand guard by the door while Stella entered the office. She pulled the blinds up on one of the windows a bit to illuminate the room and began shuffling through desk drawers searching for the keys.

Suddenly her eyes landed on a set of key hooks next to the door. She rushed over to them. There were four sets of keys, and all looked to belong to vehicles. She couldn't tell which keys belonged to the bus, so she grabbed them all and shoved them in her pockets.

Stella kept close to Daryl as they made their way back to the open front doors. The sounds of the walkers in the building seemed louder, as if they knew fresh prey had wandered into their midst. The pair quickly moved out of the building, and Stella ran over to the bus.

"I don't know which keys they are," she said, fumbling to extract the keys from her pockets.

Daryl glanced at the front of the bus. "Ford," he called. Stella found the correct keys and jammed them into the ignition. The bus roared to life.

"Yes!" Stella exclaimed excitedly.

The groans of the dead from the retirement home interrupted her brief moment of joy. Walkers were beginning to spill out of the open front doors. Most looked as though they had been elderly people who had lived at the retirement home before the turn.

"I'll take the Prius back and you follow behind in this," Daryl said quickly. Stella nodded, hoping the bus wouldn't be too difficult to drive. It didn't look much different from other vehicles she had driven, and she forced herself to remain confident.

Daryl ran to the Prius and jumped inside, peeling out of the parking lot quickly. Stella shifted the bus into drive and followed, leaving the dead pouring out of the retirement home behind them.


	20. Chapter 20

**Warning: Sexual content in this chapter. It is outlined in gray lines if you wish to skip over it. Enjoy!**

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><p>They had been driving for about fifteen minutes when Stella saw Daryl slowing down in front of her in the Prius. She frowned, looking ahead to see if there were any threats on the road, but saw nothing. Daryl flipped on his turn signal and pulled onto a gravel driveway. Stella followed and saw a farmhouse up the road. As Daryl pulled up to the house, Stella pulled in behind him and parked. She followed Daryl's lead and waited in the car for a few moments to see if anything, living or dead, stirred around the house. When all seemed still, she got out and looked around.<p>

"Why'd you stop here?" she asked.

"They might have some supplies," Daryl shrugged. "I saw it on our way into town and thought it might be a good place to check out."

Stella nodded and followed Daryl up the steps to the porch. She unsheathed her larger knife and waited as Daryl knocked on the glass windows next to the door with the butt of his crossbow. When nothing came to investigate, he tried the handle, and seeing that it was locked, stepped back and kicked the door in. Daryl held his crossbow ready as he entered with Stella on his heels.

"Anybody home?" he called. There was no response. He sighed and closed the door behind him.

"I'll check out the upstairs. You raid the kitchen," he directed.

Stella made her way toward the large kitchen of the house and began searching through cabinets. There was still plenty of canned food in the pantry. Stella looked around and found several reusable shopping bags stuffed in a corner. She filled the bags with the canned food, a kitchen knife set, some vitamin supplements, and a stash of batteries she found in a drawer.

Daryl came tramping down the stairs somewhat noisily.

"Find anything good?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," Stella grinned. "Food, vitamins, batteries. Good call on stopping here."

"Awesome," he smiled. "Take one of those bags upstairs, there's soap and toothpaste and fresh clothes that we can take."

Stella grabbed an empty bag and followed Daryl up the stairs. She tried to ignore the family portraits along the walls. She didn't want to know whose house they were looting, even though it was obvious the owners hadn't been home (or even alive) in quite some time.

Daryl led Stella into the master bedroom, but rather than filling the bag with loot, he instead immediately turned to her and grabbed the back of her head, pulling her in for a passionate kiss. She kissed back for a moment before breaking away and eying him mischievously.

"You didn't bring me up here for supplies, did you?"

"Course I did," Daryl replied gruffly. "But there's somethin' else I want, too."

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><p>Stella felt an intense heat growing in the pit of her stomach, and she knew she had to have him, too. She crashed her lips back to his and pushed her tongue inside his mouth. Daryl buried his fingers in her messy short hair. Her hands quickly found his belt buckle and unfastened it, unbuttoning his pants as well. His calloused hands found their way under her shirt and lifted it over her head. His fingers unclasped her bra as she worked her way into his pants and grasped his shaft. As always, his erection turned her on even more. She moaned into his mouth as his hands roughly grasped one of her breasts. She let go of his cock to rip his shirt over his head and began backing him toward the large bed behind them. He fell onto it and she climbed on top of him, her legs straddling him.<p>

Stella broke from the kiss and moved her lips down his body until she came to his unfastened pants. She tugged them down and his erection sprang free. She grasped him at the base of his shaft and put her lips around the tip, sucking lightly to tease him. She flicked her tongue around the head, down the length of him, and back up the bottom of his shaft, enjoying his labored breathing that showed she was driving him crazy. Finally she took as much of him as she could in her mouth. He groaned as she moved her mouth up and down, her tongue grazing the sensitive spot on the base of the head as she moved. After several moments he roughly grabbed her upper arms and tugged her away.

"You better stop before you push me too far, girl," he said hoarsely. She grinned deviously at him and gasped when he flipped her over and rose to his knees, kneeling between her legs. He hastily unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them down along with her panties. He slipped his hand between her legs and he noticed how wet she already was. He bent down, pressing down her thighs to further spread her legs and give him better access. He planted wet kisses down her thighs, and Stella let out a breathy moan when his mouth finally reached her sweet spot. She arched her back as his tongue moved over the most sensitive part of her, varying his pace as if to tease her. He slipped two fingers inside her and moved them in and out as his tongue quickly brought her to her climax. She dug her fingers into his hair as she came.

Her orgasm had hardly finished before Daryl fell back on top of her and kissed her hard as he drove himself deep inside her. His thrusts were hard and fast, and she could tell that he wouldn't last long at this pace. She forcefully pushed him off of her and climbed on top of him again, pinning his hands above his head. She teased him for a moment, dragging her wetness over him tantalizingly slowly, before slipping his length inside her again. She rocked her hips back and forth. Her pace was slower than Daryl's had been, but the way she drew him out of her to the tip before pushing back down again was driving him wild. She rode him steadily for several long minutes before Daryl finally tore his hands from their pinned position on the pillow and grabbed her hips, raising her up and thrusting into her hard and fast. Stella climaxed, and her muscles clenching around him drove him to his peak as well. She collapsed on top of him, both of them trying to catch their breath as he throbbed inside her.

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><p>"That was—"<p>

"Yeah," Stella finished for him. It had been almost two full weeks since they had been able to be intimate, and the release felt beyond amazing.

Stella rolled off of him and searched for something to clean herself up with. Daryl heaved a satisfied sigh and rose from the bed to get dressed. Once his clothes were on, he grabbed the bag from the floor and went into the master bathroom to fill it with various toiletries. Stella finished dressing as well and searched the remaining bedrooms, taking whatever appropriately-sized clothing she could find.

When the bag was full, Daryl slung an arm around Stella's shoulders and planted a kiss on her lips.

"Let's put the bags in the car and then go check out the barn," he suggested.

"The barn?" Stella questioned.

"You never know what'll be in there," Daryl said.

Stella nodded and helped him load their bags of loot into the bus, as the Prius was already quite full. She followed Daryl to the barn behind the house. His crossbow was loaded and ready, just in case. He pounded on the door of the barn, and when no sounds came from within, he hauled open the doors and went inside.

It looked as though it had been a stable at one time, but the horses were no longer there. Various tools and equipment were mounted on the walls, and Daryl grabbed a pitchfork and tossed it about in his hands.

"This could be a weapon in a pinch," he shrugged.

Stella examined the tools lining the walls. Her eyes lit up suddenly and she rushed to pull one of the tools down.

"This. Oh, this is amazing," she gushed. Daryl turned to see her holding a scythe in her hands. The long, curved blade was mounted atop a three-foot-long handle. Stella was turning the scythe in her hands, getting a feel for it. She looked lethal with the thing, and Daryl couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face.

"Girl, you look hot with that thing," he said. She grinned and took a few practice swings with it. The instrument was meant for cutting grass or wheat, but it looked like an excellent weapon for fighting the dead.

"I love it," Stella replied. She moved around the barn and grabbed some leather straps that looked like they belonged to some kind of saddle or horse equipment. "I need to make something to hold it across my back, so I don't have to carry it around," she said. "Maybe I can use these to fashion something."

Daryl nodded. "Good idea." He continued around the barn, taking any sharp objects that could be potential weapons. Once they had picked everything over, they headed back to the Prius and the bus.

"I think Glenn and Maggie are going to be very pleased with the results of our run today," Stella smiled.

"Definitely," Daryl agreed. He pulled Stella in for a final kiss before getting in the Prius. Even though he knew Stella was dreading leaving the next day, he felt glad that she had found a weapon to be excited about. They had everything they needed. He just hoped it would be enough to survive on the road for as long as they needed to.


	21. Chapter 21

**Wow, the mid-season finale was super sad. I'm still depressed about it. **(SPOILER ALERT!)** FYI, I will not be killing Beth in this story! I had plans for her down the line, and despite last night's heartbreaking episode, I'm not changing my storyline. RIP, Beth. You will be missed. :(**

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><p>Stella looked around the treehouse for the last time, committing everything about it to memory. Everything was packed into the bus, including as many personal items as Stella dared to take. She tried to tell herself that this wasn't goodbye forever, that she would come back here someday, but she knew that wasn't true. She would very likely never see this place again.<p>

Her eyes traveled over the outdated dark plaid curtains, the rickety kitchen table, the old woodstove that had been their constant companion throughout the cold winter, and the bed that had been stripped of its quilt and sheets. The bookshelves remained full, as Stella had opted to only take an empty journal and her favorite book: _The Witching Hour _by Anne Rice. The cabinets had been emptied, as had the closets and any other stashes of supplies throughout the house. The house looked so empty and forlorn, which was exactly how Stella felt.

"Thanks for keeping me safe," she whispered to the empty house. She turned and walked out the door, closing it and locking it behind her. She pocketed the keys and descended the ladder. She knew it was silly to take the keys, or even to lock the door, but she refused to completely let go of the place just yet.

Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn were waiting for her by the bus. She roughly wiped the tears that had escaped her eyes with her sleeve. Daryl drew her in for a one-armed hug, and Maggie shared a sympathetic glance with her.

"Let's get moving," Stella said. "If I linger around here any longer, I might change my mind about coming with."

Daryl planted a rough kiss on her forehead and pulled away. He climbed on the bus and took his place behind the steering wheel, as he would be the first one to take a shift to drive. Their plan was to drive until they needed to refuel, and to keep going as long as they could. They had outlined their route on a map. The plan was to start with the town where Glenn and Maggie had run into Daryl and continue on the most likely route north, checking each town for any clues as they came to each one.

The bus roared to life and Stella took a seat across the aisle from Glenn and Maggie. The back of the bus was stocked full of supplies, leaving the front half of the bus as seating room. Stella stared out the window as Daryl pulled away. She could barely see the treehouse through the woods, and she tried to keep her emotions in check as it disappeared from sight completely.

"I lost my home, too," Maggie said quietly.

"The farm?" Stella asked, remembering that the farm had been where she and Glenn and Daryl had met.

Maggie nodded. "We were able to stay there for a while after the turn, but then it got overrun by a herd. We barely made it out alive, and we didn't get to take anything with us. At least you got a chance to say goodbye, and to take some of the things that matter to you."

Stella smiled at Maggie. She was right. Leaving her home was extremely difficult, but she had to do what she did so often and stay positive.

"I should also remember that you guys are more important than a treehouse," Stella said. "I may be losing a home, but I gained three amazing friends in its place."

Maggie and Glenn shared a smile with her, and she caught Daryl's eye in the rearview mirror. Maggie's and Glenn's friendship was definitely a blessing, but she thanked her stars for Daryl most of all. They never spoke about their relationship or their feelings for one another, but both knew that each meant a great deal to the other. Stella had never felt so passionate about someone in her life. Zombie apocalypse be damned; there were still good men to be had in the world.

Stella leaned her head against the window and watched the trees pass by as they drove. Her stomach churned in anxiety of what was ahead, but once again, she told herself to remain positive.

* * *

><p>Daryl slowed down as the bus pulled into the next town over from where he had found Glenn and Maggie. He estimated that it was about fifty miles from the treehouse. It was a tiny town, even smaller than the towns nearest to the house. The main street contained a bar, a small grocery and drug store, and several other mom and pop type stores that lined the street. He could spot two church steeples in the town, but there couldn't have been more than a few blocks of houses.<p>

The town seemed deserted, save for the few walkers lumbering about. Daryl pulled to a stop in front of the grocery store and turned to the group.

"Okay, let's make this quick. Glenn, Maggie, why don't you guys check out the inside and see if any baby supplies are missing. Stella, you and I will take care of the biters out front and keep watch."

Stella reached for her new scythe, feeling excited to try it out. She felt like a kid on Christmas with a new toy. Daryl gave her a slight smirk when he saw the excitement on her face. He opened the sliding doors to the bus and exited first, swiftly releasing a bolt between the eyes of a nearby walker. Maggie and Glenn followed and made their way to the front of the store. Stella emerged last, her scythe held tightly in her hands.

Maggie knocked loudly on the door to the store and waited. Three walkers pressed themselves against the glass door soon after, and Glenn quickly opened the door and dispatched two of them with a knife, Maggie taking out the third. Stella couldn't help but notice how well they moved together. She knew that she and Daryl were also a good team together, and the thought almost made her smile.

Stella made her way over to the small group of walkers that were approaching the bus. A ghoul reached for Daryl as he bent down to yank a crossbow bolt from the forehead of a biter he had just downed, and Stella raised her scythe and swung hard. The curved blade sliced through the top of the walker's skull. It collapsed as its scalp and brain matter were flung several feet by the force of her swing.

She let out an excited yelp. Daryl glanced back at her and shared a brief smile before turning his attention back to the threat at hand. He downed two more dead and stopped, saving the last one for her. He swept his hand out toward it, as if it were an offering. Stella grinned and swung her scythe again, this time not hitting her target quite as accurately. The scythe took the ghoul's head clean off, and the head rolled away from its body, jaws still snapping. Daryl walked over and stamped down on the head. The skull crushed beneath his boot and sent ooze and black blood pooling everywhere.

"Aim a little higher next time," Daryl smirked, stating the obvious. "I don't want you accidentally flinging biting heads at me during battle."

Stella grinned sheepishly. "Sorry!"

"S'okay," Daryl shrugged. He moved to her side and put his arm around her. "You just need more practice."

"I have to admit, this thing is fun to fight with," Stella said, turning the weapon in her hands.

"You know, you look fuckin' sexy fightin' with it, too," Daryl muttered in a low voice. Stella smirked at him and tried her best to ignore the surge of heat that had suddenly welled up in the pit of her stomach. She turned her attention instead to Maggie and Glenn, who had just emerged from the store.

"So?" Daryl questioned.

"It's hard to say," Glenn sighed. "There are baby supplies missing, but the whole store has been looted, so it's not much to go on. There's pretty much nothing left in there."

Daryl nodded. "Well, let's just keep heading north on this highway. Maybe the next town will have something better to go on."

"Yeah," Glenn agreed. "Hopefully."

The group climbed back on the bus. Daryl started the engine and pulled away from the curb to continue on their journey. Stella stood and went back to their stash of supplies, grabbing the leather straps she had found in the barn the day before. She went back to her seat and began trying to fashion some form of a holster for the scythe so that she could wear it across her back. She looked up and caught Daryl's eye in the rearview mirror again, and she couldn't help smiling.

_Think positive, _she told herself again. _You have an awesome new weapon, great company, reliable transportation, and best of all, you have Daryl. _

She looked back to the task at hand, but the smile stayed on her lips. Daryl made it all worth it.


	22. Chapter 22

Stella rubbed her arms apprehensively. The sun had set a while ago, and darkness had fallen around them. Daryl had pulled over on the side of the highway they were traveling on and declared they would stop there for the night. He didn't want to drive at night and run into possible trouble, and Stella was thankful for his decision. It was the first night she had spent outside of the treehouse in a long time, and she was anxious enough as it was.

The group had decided to sleep in the bus rather than make camp on the side of the road. It was safer in case they should need to make a quick getaway, and the roof over their heads would keep them dry from any precipitation that should fall overnight. The bus would also offer more warmth than being out in the open, as Daryl had declared that they would not be lighting any campfires. He said that the light would draw not only the dead, but would also give away their position to any living threats that could be lurking nearby. Stella was thankful that the others knew what they were doing and how to survive on the road, but it was all new to her. She couldn't help feeling a little useless and scared.

"You tired?" Daryl asked, coming over to where Stella was sitting with her knees drawn into her chest. She shook her head.

"I think I'm too anxious to sleep."

"Want to take first watch with me then?" he offered.

"Watch?"

"One of us has to be awake at all times to keep an eye out for anything comin' our way."

"Oh."

It seemed obvious, and Stella felt stupid. She had never had to have someone keep watch while she slept before. Life on the road was completely new to her.

"You comin'?" Daryl asked, making his way toward the door of the bus. She nodded and followed him out. Maggie and Glenn emerged from the trees next to the road.

"There's a stream about a half mile that way," Glenn said. "Our water supplies aren't much depleted yet, but it wouldn't hurt to boil more before we head out tomorrow."

Daryl nodded. "You guys get some rest. Stella and I will take first watch."

"Thanks," Glenn said. He stretched and made his way onto the bus to set up a sleeping bag. Maggie looked at Stella, observing how jumpy she seemed.

"I know it seems scary being out here in the open like this," she said, "and it is. But you'll get used to it. We'll be fine."

Stella tried to flash her an agreeable smile, but she felt that it came out as more of a grimace. Maggie put her hand on Stella's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly before making her way inside the bus after Glenn.

Daryl moved toward the front of the bus and sat down on the pavement, his back leaning against the front bumper. Stella joined him, and he rested a hand on her thigh. His hand felt warm through her jeans. She had her scythe next to her, and Daryl had his crossbow loaded and ready in case of trouble, but she still felt anxious. The pair sat in silence for a while, Stella jumping at every sound in the woods. Daryl squeezed her thigh as if to comfort her each time she jolted, but it did nothing to soothe her nerves.

"Maggie's right," Daryl said quietly. "It's scary, but you'll get used to it."

She sighed. "I know. This is just the first night I've spent outside the safe walls of the treehouse in years. I've never had to live on the road like this. It's a lot to get used to."

Daryl moved his hand from her thigh to her cheek and turned her face toward his.

"I'm really glad you're trying though," he said. "Don't like thinkin' about what would've happened if you hadn't agreed to come along."

"I imagine I'd be feeling pretty lonely right about now," Stella mused. "And you would be missing me something fierce."

Daryl gave her a half smile and a slow, close-mouthed kiss. When he pulled away, Stella settled her head on her shoulder. They fell into a comfortable silence, and Stella tried not to be so alarmed with every sound that popped up nearby. She told herself that if Daryl wasn't worried, she shouldn't be. He had spent much of his life in the woods, so if the sounds were normal to him, they couldn't be a threat. She took a deep breath and tried to relax.

Just as she was feeling more at ease, the telltale sound of moans and shuffles in the distance snapped her into alertness. Daryl frowned and stood, grabbing his crossbow off the ground. Stella gripped her scythe, her knuckles white against its handle. It sounded like more than just a few ghouls, and the sounds were heading toward them.

Daryl quickly jumped up on the hood of the bus and searched down the road. The moonlight illuminated everything in a dull, pale light, but it was enough to see what was ahead.

"Herd," he murmured, quickly jumping down. Stella's insides turned to ice. Herds passing through were a manageable threat when she was high up in the safety of the treehouse. She had no idea how she would fare on the ground. Daryl tugged her arm toward the double doors of the bus and pushed her inside. He closed the doors and ducked down, Stella following his lead. Maggie and Glenn were awake now and looking at him with questioning eyes.

"Herd's heading this way," Daryl said quietly. "If we stay still, quiet, and out of sight, maybe they'll just pass by."

Glenn and Maggie nodded, quickly getting untangled from their sleeping bags and grabbing their weapons. They crouched low like Daryl and Stella and held their weapons at the ready.

The herd was getting closer. Stella tried to breathe and slow her pounding heart, but to no avail. Daryl reached over and gripped one of her hands in his. She met his eyes and held his gaze, trying to focus on the icy blue eyes in front of her instead of the horrific moaning outside. The dead were closing in, shuffling aimlessly south. Stella bit her lip and found herself almost holding her breath as she heard them now on the sides of the bus. She jumped when a walker hit the front of the bus, followed by others, their bodies jostling the bus as they pushed past. None seemed to know of the living inside the bus, however, and they shuffled onward.

After what seemed like hours, the moans thinned and faded. The herd had passed by them, and for the time being, they were safe. She waited for Daryl to give her the go ahead before finally changing positions and stretching out the ache in her back. She had been sitting in the same tensed position for so long that everything seemed to hurt. She took several deep breaths in an effort to calm herself.

"I think we're okay," Daryl murmured quietly as he stood and looked out the windows. "They're gone. But we should stay quiet in case there are any stragglers."

"Good call on sleeping in the bus," Glenn whispered. Maggie exhaled in relief and slid back into her sleeping bag, but she kept one hand still touching the hilt of her knife. Glenn laid back down as well, and Stella went and joined Daryl at the front of the bus. Her hands were shaking.

"It's okay," Daryl muttered. "We're okay."

Stella nodded and slid down to sit on the floor by his feet, trying to still her shaking hands. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep a wink that night. Was every night on the road like this? How would they travel or fight when they were utterly exhausted? She found herself doubting her decision to come along, until Daryl's rough hands cupped her face and pulled her in for a soft kiss. She melted into his lips, and he wrapped his arms around her to draw her in as close as possible. Stella let out a long, shaky breath after she pulled away. She was still terrified, but the comfort of Daryl's arms made her feel steady. She looked up into Daryl's eyes and felt her doubt melt away.


	23. Chapter 23

**I hope this chapter is good. I had a horribly stressful day at work, and I finally managed to put down the wine about an hour ago to crank this chapter out. I might go back and revise it later. In the words of Ernest Hemingway: "Write drunk, edit sober." Enjoy.**

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><p>Daryl stood from his seat and peered out the windshield of the bus to see why Glenn was slowing down. He groaned when he saw the blockade of abandoned cars ahead.<p>

"Again?" Stella sighed from next to him.

"Looks like it," Daryl replied.

Glenn pulled to a stop and turned to the rest of the group.

"Where's the map?" he asked. "We need another route."

It was the third day on their trip and thus far, they had run into several snags in the way of abandoned cars blocking the road. Twice, it appeared that they would have been able to put the cars in neutral and simply roll them out of the way, but Glenn pointed out that if the cars were still stalled where they had been abandoned, the rest of the group likely hadn't come that way. This time, the blockade was much larger than the previous ones. Stella realized it meant they were probably getting closer to Atlanta, which made her nervous.

Maggie brought forward the map to determine their next move. Daryl stood and offered a hand to Stella. She took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

"Let's at least stretch our legs for a minute," Maggie suggested. Glenn opened the double doors of the bus and the group filed out, stretching and yawning in the afternoon sun.

Maggie spread the map on the hood of the bus and the rest of the group gathered around to study it. They had been marking the path they had taken with a red marker, and Glenn drew an X on their current location to represent the abandoned car blockade. Stella saw that she was correct about their location being somewhat close to Atlanta. They were about 50 miles from the city limits.

"If we backtrack and hop on 36, we'll go by this lake here," Daryl observed. "We need to refill our water supply."

Glenn nodded. "Sounds like a good plan. Let's take a quick 5-minute rest and then we'll get back on the road."

Stella followed Maggie off the road and slightly into the trees for a bathroom break. She felt exhausted. She had hardly been able to sleep when they stopped at night due to her anxiety. She found that she felt much safer when the bus was moving, and she'd been able to get some decent naps in, but she missed the security of sleeping in the treehouse.

"How close are we planning to get to Atlanta?" she asked Maggie as the two of them headed back toward the bus after relieving themselves. "Last I heard, it was overrun."

"It is," Maggie nodded. "We don't wanna get too close."

Stella fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. She was feeling very nervous about going closer to the city. More people meant more biters. She hoped they would be able to skirt around the city unscathed.

The group piled back on the bus, this time Maggie taking a turn at the wheel. Stella settled back into her usual spot and leaned her head against Daryl's shoulder. He lifted his arm and put it around her, pulling her in close. She breathed in his scent of sweat and leather and felt momentarily at peace. As the bus began moving again, she was lulled into a light sleep.

Stella woke to Daryl gently shaking her. She blinked, trying to shake the grogginess from her mind.

"We're stopping to get some water," he said.

Stella nodded and wiped at her eyes, feeling the need to stand and stretch. Daryl moved to the back of the bus and grabbed several gallon jugs to fill. Stella followed and grabbed two herself. She looked around outside through the windows and thankfully saw no dead shuffling their way. The lake was close to the road, and there were a few houses along the shore. She hoped no one was hiding inside the houses.

"You coming with?" Daryl asked. Stella held up the empty jugs in her hands in response. He nodded, moving to the front of the bus and exiting through the double doors. Glenn and Maggie were outside examining their surroundings.

"Okay, let's make this quick. I don't like being near these houses," Daryl muttered. "Glenn, Maggie, you guys watch over the bus while Stella and I grab some water. We can boil it later when we're not so close to a town."

Glenn and Maggie nodded, their weapons at the ready and eyes on alert. Daryl nodded toward the lake and Stella followed him. They walked through the trees, trying to stay away from the houses that were dotted along the shore. Nothing jumped out at them though, and Stella found herself admiring the beauty of the place.

They reached the water's edge and filled the water jugs. Before picking them up to haul them back, Daryl pulled Stella in for a hug. He had been readily showing affection since they had gotten on the road, and Stella was thankful that he was willing to comfort her and be patient with her as she adjusted to life on the road. She leaned against him and sighed. He pulled away and kissed her briefly on the lips before grabbing as many jugs as he could carry and starting back up the hill through the trees to the road. Stella grabbed the remaining two water jugs and followed after him.

As they neared the road, suddenly Daryl froze. Stella stopped walking behind him and listened, wondering what he had heard that had caused him to stop. Then she heard it, too. Loud voices up on the road.

Daryl set the water jugs down in the grass, Stella doing the same. He crept up through the trees and ducked down behind an abandoned car on the shoulder. Stella crouched next to him and looked at the scene up ahead. She felt her stomach fill with fear and dread when she noticed three well-armed men by the bus. Two of them had Maggie on her knees in front of them with guns aimed at her head, and the third man had his gun aimed at Glenn. Glenn had his handgun aimed back at them, but it was clear that he didn't know who to aim the gun at, the barrel of his gun wavering from one man to the other. Daryl glanced at Stella and jerked his head toward the scene, motioning her to follow him. He silently crept along the road and took cover behind another abandoned car that was closer to the bus. Stella mimicked his actions, careful not to make any noise.

"There's no way out of this," one of the men with a gun aimed at Maggie said. All three men looked to be in their mid twenties. They were in great physical shape, and all three carried large automatic weapons. "If you shoot any one of us, your girl dies. And I'm willing to bet that our guns fire faster than yours, so even if you shot one of us down, you'd be fucked, too."

Glenn shook his head, his gun still moving back and forth between the three men in uncertainty.

"Give us the bus, or you both die."

Daryl rose silently from his position behind the car and crept toward the altercation, Stella following stealthily behind with her scythe gripped tightly in her hands. Glenn suddenly noticed the two of them approaching, but he and Maggie's attackers had their backs turned to Daryl and Stella. Glenn quickly averted his eyes to avoid drawing attention to what was behind them.

"What if we give you half?" he said, stalling.

"Half of what? The bus?" one man asked incredulously with a guffaw. "Nah, I think we take the bus and all your supplies."

Daryl aimed his crossbow at one of the men holding Maggie. Stella crept forward, now just a few feet behind them. She moved behind the man who had his gun trained on Glenn and caught Glenn's eye. They knew that all three of them would have to attack at once so that none of them were shot. Glenn pointed his gun at the second man holding Maggie and waited for the right moment to pull the trigger.

Stella raised the scythe, and as she swung down, she heard the simultaneous sounds of Glenn's gun firing and the thrum of Daryl's crossbow. Maggie yelped in surprise as her two captors fell to the ground, and the third man's head went rolling away from his body. She hadn't realized Stella and Daryl had been there. She scrambled to her feet and pulled Glenn into a fierce hug.

"Talk about amazing timing," she breathed in relief, turning to hug Stella and giving an awkward side-hug to Daryl. The man Glenn had shot had a clean bullet hole through his forehead, and the one Daryl had taken down had a crossbow bolt sticking out of the back of his head. Stella walked over to the head of the man she had beheaded with her scythe and pulled one of her knives from its sheath. She jammed the blade into the skull and kicked the head away. She wiped the blade on her jeans and used the shirt on her victim to wipe her scythe clean. She patted down the headless body and grabbed all of his weapons, including his large automatic rifle.

"It was a close call, but it looks like we actually benefited from this," she mused as she walked back over to the group with the rifle in hand. Daryl retrieved his crossbow bolt and looted the body, while Glenn did the same for the man he had taken down. Stella looked down at the three fresh corpses, thinking that she should have felt bad for killing men who were so young, but she didn't. Instead, she was happy about the weapons they had earned. The world was certainly a much different place than it used to be.

"Well, let's get moving," Daryl said. "There could be more nearby. Let's grab the water and head out."

Glenn nodded, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"Hey guys?" he said, causing Daryl and Stella to pause and look back at him. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Stella said with a smile.


	24. Chapter 24

Stella took a deep breath and tried to still her nerves as the bus slowed upon their arrival in the small town. After their run-in with the three armed men on the highway two days prior, they had discovered more potential evidence of the lost group in a town called Covington. The town had been larger than most they had searched thus far, and upon raiding a local crisis center there, they discovered discarded empty jars of baby food and evidence that someone had stayed in the center for at least a day or two. The two local highways that headed north out of the town had been impassible due to abandoned cars, and the group had made the decision to try heading closer to Atlanta to see what they could find. Now, it seemed as though the small town they had entered was bordering the suburban sprawl of Atlanta, and Stella found it difficult to quell her anxiety about being so close to the city.

Daryl drove the bus down the main street of the town. Stella could see several walkers wandering about down the side streets. She took a deep breath as Daryl pulled the bus to a stop in front of the town's grocery store.

"Same routine as usual," he said. "Let's be in and out as quick as possible. And grab any supplies if there are any left."

Stella exited the bus after Glenn and Maggie, Daryl walking out behind her. She gripped her scythe tightly in her hands. Glenn and Maggie made their way over to the grocery store, and Daryl gave her a nudge and nodded toward a camping and outdoor supply store down the street. The smashed in windows indicated that it had likely already been looted, but Daryl wanted to check to see if anything useful had been left behind.

Stella followed behind him as they moved down the street. She sucked in a breath as she noticed a gruesome scene in an alleyway, and Daryl stopped to see what had caught her attention. About fifteen to twenty walkers had been slaughtered in the alley, and the bodies lay in a stinking pile. Daryl frowned and moved closer to the scene, investigating the corpses. Some had bullet holes through their heads, and others had been dispatched by knife. But several of the bodies seemed to have the tops of their skulls shaved clean off with a sharp blade.

"Think this could have been done with a katana?" Daryl wondered aloud. Stella bent down, wrinkling her nose at the smell, and observed the clean slices he was referring to.

"I dunno. Maybe. You said a woman in your group had a katana. You think this was her work?"

Daryl shrugged. "It's not very solid evidence, but it's possible."

"That's good," Stella said. "Maybe we're heading in the right direction."

"Yeah . . . maybe."

Daryl straightened up and moved away from the bodies. It wasn't much to go on, but the slim possibility that Michonne had taken out some of the ghouls gave him a tiny sliver of hope. He motioned for Stella to follow him to the outdoor supply store, eager to get out of the town and back on the road.

He knocked the butt of his crossbow against the metal door frame of the store. One lone walker emerged from the darkness and stumbled toward them. Stella let the biter get within a few feet of them before swinging her scythe down through its head, slicing the top of the skull off. She frowned as the top of the walker's head landed on the pavement with a wet slap.

"It could have been a scythe like mine," she observed. "Maybe not a katana."

Daryl frowned, realizing the cut looked very similar to the ones he had investigated minutes before. He grunted in response and stepped in through the open window. Stella followed behind him into the shadows of the darkened store. She grabbed a shopping cart and followed behind him, snatching useful things like flashlights and lanterns, canteens, rope, a fishing pole, and whatever else they could find that hadn't already been taken.

"Looks like all the hunting rifles are gone," Daryl noted as they passed the weapons section of the store. It looked completely stripped. Stella was about to reply when she heard a shout from outside. She shared a quick glance with Daryl and abandoned the cart, rushing outside with him hot on her heels.

Glenn and Maggie were fending off a crowd of walkers near the bus. Stella wasn't sure where they had come from, but there were more than the two of them could fight off. She and Daryl rushed to the fight. Daryl fired his crossbow several times and downed some of the attacking dead before unsheathing his knife and quickly dispatching several more. Stella swung her scythe at two walkers who were fast approaching. She tried to make sure she didn't just decapitate them and send their still-biting heads flying, but in the heat of the moment, she wasn't sure where her blade was striking, as more dead appeared behind her. She briefly thought about using her trusty knife instead, but the length of the scythe's handle allowed her a few extra feet between her and the dead.

Daryl had joined Maggie and Glenn by the bus, and the three were systematically taking down the approaching ghouls. Stella heard a rasping moan from behind her and whirled, seeing five or six more walkers emerge from the broken windows of a nearby store. She backed up, retreating into the nearest alleyway, realizing with dread that even more dead were approaching her from the opposite direction of the alley. There were more than she could handle on her own, but Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn were just as occupied as she in fending off the attack. Stella wildly swung her scythe, and though she was hitting her targets true, there were always more reaching for her.

Suddenly, two people darted out from a door in the alley with knives in hand. Stella didn't have time to look at them as she continued fighting off the ghouls that had surrounded her. She heard the sounds of bodies falling in the alley, and she suddenly realized that these two strangers were helping her. As her scythe downed another biter and the crowd of dead began to thin, she realized that each of them held a knife that they skillfully pushed into the skulls of the walkers around them. Finally, only two ghouls remained. Stella swung her scythe a final time, her muscles burning with exertion, and felled the two dead in a single blow.

She turned her attention to the two living people who had come to her aide and eyed them warily, her scythe still raised. They didn't look threatening, but aside from Daryl, Glenn, and Maggie, none of the other survivors Stella had met had been good people. The survivors eyed her in a similar fashion, their knives also somewhat raised. One was a dark-skinned male and the other a delicate blonde female, and both looked to be several years younger than herself.

"Are you alone?" Stella asked suddenly, fearing that they were part of a larger, more threatening group. The man nodded, and the blonde gave him an icy cold glare, silently berating him for giving away the information.

"Are you?" the blonde asked. Stella narrowed her eyes and listened, hearing the conflict around the corner seem to die down. She heard Daryl's voice suddenly calling her name, and she could hear the fear in his tone as he realized she was not within eyesight.

"Here," she called back to him, keeping her eyes trained on the two people in front of her. She heard his footsteps run around the corner, and the two people in front her looked toward the sound. The blonde's eyes suddenly widened and she clapped a hand to her mouth.

"Oh my god," she murmured.

Her knife fell to the ground as she rushed past Stella and toward Daryl. Stella whirled around and saw him drop his crossbow to the ground and seize the blonde in a tight hug.

"Beth, oh thank god," Daryl said quietly.

Stella's eyes widened in realization. She quickly ran around the corner and saw Maggie and Glenn leaning against the bus in exhaustion from the fight. "Come quick!" she shouted.

They both lurched themselves off the side of the bus and ran toward Stella to see what she was shouting about. Maggie rounded the corner and let out a cry when she saw the scene before her. Daryl released Beth and allowed Maggie to rush forward, throwing her arms around her sister and sobbing. Stella bit her lip, the scene making her rather emotional. Daryl strode over to Stella and pulled her into a hug as well.

"She saved my ass," Stella said. "I was cornered and there were too many of them, and they came out of nowhere and helped me."

Daryl pulled away and turned back to Beth and Maggie, a relieved smile on his face. The sisters pulled away and Glenn moved in for a hug as well. Stella noticed Beth's companion standing awkwardly to the side, and Beth seemed to follow her gaze as she broke away from Glenn.

"This is Noah," Beth introduced, wiping tears from her eyes. "Noah, this is my sister Maggie, Glenn, Daryl, and . . ."

"Stella," Stella offered. Beth flashed her a smile.

"Nice to meet you."

"I can't believe you're here," Maggie cried, tears still streaming down her face. "I thought I'd lost you."

"What happened?" Daryl demanded to know. "The car . . . I tried tracking you for months, but there was nothing to go on."

"A lot happened," Beth said in a hardened voice. "But I got out. Noah helped me escape. We got out together."

The sound of more shuffling dead caught their attention, and they noticed several more biters heading toward them.

"Let's get out of here," Glenn said. "We can have a proper reunion once we get somewhere safe."

"Let me just go grab the supplies we carted in the outdoor store. You start up the bus and I'll be out in 30 seconds," Daryl said. He jogged off toward the store, and Stella followed the rest of the group toward the bus. Maggie had her arm around Beth, and Stella felt emotional. Beth was so important to all of Stella's newfound friends, and she was incredibly thankful that the girl had been found.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: As I mentioned earlier, I am not killing Beth in this story! In my version of events, Beth escaped the hospital with Noah. If only that had happened in the show . . . :(<strong>


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's note: Just FYI, as the group travels around, I have no idea if my descriptions of the setting are accurate. My grandma lives in Marietta, GA (an Atlanta suburb), but that's the extent of my experience with Georgia. I'm mostly going off of information from Google maps. **

* * *

><p>The bus was quiet as they drove out of the town, heading north on a small local highway. Stella was relieved that they were not going closer to Atlanta, and instead were skirting around the edge of the suburbs and moving north. Maggie sat next to Beth with her arm wrapped around her younger sister's shoulders. Beth was leaning on Maggie, but her eyes moved around the bus, as if she couldn't believe where she was. Her gaze frequently landed on Noah, who sat in the seat across the aisle from her. Stella wondered how long the pair had traveled together. Beth had promised to tell them everything once they found a safe enough place to settle down for the evening, but at the moment, the silent reunion seemed to be enough.<p>

Daryl slipped his hand into Stella's and shared a brief side smile with her. She noticed that his eyes kept darting back to Beth, as if he was checking to make sure she was still there. Stella gave his hand a small squeeze, knowing how difficult Beth's disappearance had been for him. She looked up and noticed Beth looking at their intertwined hands, but when Stella met the blonde's bright blue eyes, she flashed a quick, warm smile and looked away.

Stella was suddenly struck with the realization that she and Daryl's relationship might strike Beth is odd, considering the way Maggie and Glenn had initially reacted to it. She remembered Maggie telling her that Daryl had never really let anyone get close to him when he was with the group. She knew Beth was an exception, though not in a romantic way, and she wondered how Beth would react to the relationship. She found herself praying that Beth hadn't developed some sort of crush on Daryl when the two had traveled together. It would make sense, since Beth seemed to be the first person to be able to bring down some of Daryl's walls. Stella bit her lip and hoped things would not become awkward. She was eager to get to know Beth after all she had heard about the girl.

Glenn drove the bus for about two hours. Cars blocking the highway caused them to have to stop and backtrack twice, and now they were about forty miles northeast of the edge of Atlanta. The towns had grown smaller and more sparse as they had driven away from the city, and now the sun was low on the horizon. Glenn slowed the bus, squinting at a sign up ahead.

"What is it?" Maggie called up to him.

"A peach orchard, I think," Glenn replied. He pulled the bus to the side of the road. "It's two miles down the gravel road up here. Want to check it out? If it isn't overrun or occupied, maybe we could stay there for the night."

"Let's check it out," Daryl agreed. Glenn nodded and pulled the bus back onto the highway, turning down the gravel road. They could see rows of peach trees up ahead, but they had not been maintained in some time. The trees were flowering, but since it was still only early spring, no fruit hung from the trees. Glenn pulled the bus up to a farmhouse that looked deserted.

The group stood and grabbed their weapons to scope the place out. Maggie handed Beth her handgun and moved to the back of the bus to retrieve two of the automatic weapons they had scavenged off of the young men who had attacked them. She handed one of them to Noah, raising her eyebrows as if to ask if he knew how to use the weapon. Noah nodded and took the gun.

They stepped off the bus and listened. Everything around them seemed quiet. Daryl and Glenn made their way to the house while Maggie, Beth, and Noah scouted out the surrounding area. After several minutes of cautious searching, the place was declared clear. Stella sighed in relief. She was glad to have a real roof over their heads for a night.

Glenn came bounding on the porch with a wide grin on his face.

"Check it out!" he called. He held up two large mason jars filled with peaches. "They've got a bunch of jars in here!"

Stella couldn't wipe the grin off her face as she followed the others inside.

* * *

><p>The house was quiet and dark, save for a few candles they found to burn. Over dinner, Beth had recounted what had happened in the past months since she had been kidnapped. She told them about the hospital, and how she and Noah had escaped, barely both making it out. The two of them had been trying to get out of Atlanta on foot when winter hit, forcing them to take shelter wherever they could along the way. Beth said they didn't have much of a plan except to put as much distance between themselves and the people at the hospital as they could. When Maggie had told her about their own search for the rest of the group, Beth grew hopeful, clearly glad to have a plan and a direction to go in. They had also filled her in on how Stella had become a part of their group, and Beth seemed quick to warm up to her.<p>

Now, late in the evening, the group was bedding down for the night. The house had three bedrooms, and all of them were very happy to have real beds to sleep in. Maggie and Glenn had retired early, probably to make use of the privacy a bedroom provided, and Daryl had offered to take the first watch. Noah volunteered for the second watch, leaving plenty of alone time for Maggie and Glenn and ample time for Stella to sleep hopefully undisturbed. Stella stepped out onto the porch where Daryl was sitting and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"I'm going to bed," she said quietly. Her inability to sleep while camped on the side of the road coupled with the intense battle earlier in the day had exhausted her. Daryl looked up at her and observed the dark circles under her eyes.

"Get some rest," he murmured, pulling her down for a brief kiss. She flashed him a quick smile before retreating indoors and up the stairs to the room they had claimed for their own. Daryl watched her through the windows until she disappeared.

He noticed Beth walking through the living room blowing out candles. He couldn't believe that they had found her, that she was actually here. Noah emerged from the darkness and pulled Beth in for a hug by the foot of the stairs. Daryl watched him kiss Beth lightly on the forehead before heading up the stairs. He wasn't sure if the gesture was a romantic one, but the kid had helped Beth get out of the hospital and had kept her safe on the run, so he was all right by Daryl. He smiled to himself and turned his gaze out on the orchard of peach trees, enjoying the silence.

The silence was short-lived, however, as the front door opened and Beth stepped outside. Daryl glanced up and greeted her with a nod. She smiled and sat down next to him.

"You should be sleeping," Daryl said. "Don't know when we'll have beds again."

Beth shrugged. "Not tired."

The pair fell silent, gazing out into the still night. Daryl was reminded of the weeks they had spent traveling together when it was just the two of them, when they weren't sure if any of their group were even alive. Things had certainly changed a lot since then.

"I'm really glad you're here," Daryl said after a few minutes of silence.

"Me too."

"Just wish I could've found you sooner."

"You tried," Beth said. "You didn't give up. That means a lot."

"Should've tried harder."

"Stop. It doesn't matter. You did what you could, and I'm here now."

Daryl nodded, the silence resuming between them. As usual, Beth didn't stay silent for long.

"So you and Stella?" she said, her voice taking on a slightly teasing tone.

"Yeah? What about it?" Daryl grunted.

"You two seem pretty close."

Daryl nodded once, suddenly feeling like he was being put on the spot. Glenn and Maggie had never said anything to him about his and Stella's relationship (though he knew from the way Maggie and Stella had bonded that Stella had probably told Maggie all the details). He wasn't sure how to handle talking about it.

"So you're together, right?" Beth pressed. "Like you're dating."

Daryl scoffed. "Datin' don't exist anymore."

Beth rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

Daryl glared at her, refusing to answer. But Beth persisted, unfazed as usual by his lack of reply.

"She's your girlfriend, right?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" Beth repeated.

"What does it matter anyway?" Daryl snapped.

"It doesn't," Beth replied with a shrug. "I don't know why you're getting so defensive about it."

Daryl shrugged. He'd never had someone he could call a legitimate girlfriend. The fuck buddies he'd had over the years couldn't even come close. The word "girlfriend" felt foreign and uncomfortable to him.

"You seem pretty chummy with Noah," Daryl countered.

Beth nodded and shrugged. "Yeah. I like him. And he likes me. He's a good person."

"Better be," Daryl grumbled.

Beth smirked at him, knowing that if Noah ever hurt her, Daryl would probably hurt him right back. Her expression turned thoughtful and she turned to him, determined to make him listen to her.

"I think it's great that you found someone to be with," she said. "Even if you won't put a label on it. I can see the way you two interact together. You've got a chemistry that I've never seen anyone have with you."

"Yeah," Daryl agreed quietly, not meeting her eyes and feeling awkward.

"If you don't want to put a label on what you've got, that's fine. But with the world the way it is, you can't go pussyfooting around relationships. We don't have the time for it. We might die tomorrow. I'm sure Stella can tell that you care about her, but I know you, and I know you don't talk about your feelings. You have to tell her what you feel, cause one day, it might be too late."

Daryl stared at her, realizing the value of her statement. He wasn't even entirely sure himself how he felt about Stella, but he knew that Beth was right. He should tell her how important she was to him.

"When did you get so wise?" he muttered, nudging Beth with his shoulder. She smiled and nudged him back.

"When did you put your guard down enough to let a woman in?" she smirked.

"When someone made me realize that not everythin' in life is shit," he replied, looking pointedly at her.

Her smile widened in realization, happy that her faith in the world had rubbed off on Daryl Dixon.


	26. Chapter 26

**This one is longer than usual! And there is sexual content in this chapter, outlined by gray lines if you wish to skip over it. Enjoy! ;)**

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><p>Stella woke with a start. She sat up quickly, but relaxed when she realized where she was. Sunlight streamed through the old-fashioned lace curtains covering the window of the bedroom, and Daryl slept soundly next to her in the bed. She sighed and fell back on her pillow. She could hear the sounds of some of the others moving around in the house, and she wondered what time it was.<p>

She turned her attention to Daryl's sleeping form. She admired the way his usually hardened features relaxed as he slept. He looked peaceful, and almost younger in a way. She smiled and rose carefully from the bed. Daryl had been on watch until late the night before, so she thought he deserved to sleep in.

Stella crept out into the hallway and quietly closed the bedroom door behind her. She walked downstairs and saw Maggie and Glenn seated at the kitchen table eating peaches from a jar.

"Good morning," Maggie greeted her warmly.

"Morning," Stella replied with a smile.

"Sleep well?" Maggie asked.

"Oh yes," Stella grinned. "Best sleep I've had since we left the treehouse."

The solid night's rest had done her a world of good. She felt refreshed and renewed. Glenn and Maggie looked equally well-rested, even though Stella was sure they had not spent the entirety of the night sleeping. The privacy granted by the bedrooms was a rare thing, and Stella found herself wishing that Daryl had woken her when he had returned from his watch so that they could have taken advantage of the private room as well.

Stella grabbed another jar of peaches from the shelf and joined them at the table. She looked up at the sound of footsteps descending the stairs and saw Beth shuffle into the kitchen as well, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Morning, sleepy head," Maggie said. Beth smiled sleepily and sat down next to her sister at the kitchen table.

"Noah and Daryl still sleeping?" Glenn asked. Stella and Beth both nodded.

"We were thinking," Maggie said. "Maybe we should stay here for another day. Get some more rest. We don't know when we'll have the chance to sleep in beds again, or even under a real roof. I think taking advantage of this spot for another day would do us all some good."

"I'm definitely okay with that idea," Beth nodded. "I slept great last night, but I still feel exhausted. Noah and I haven't had a safe place to sleep in weeks."

"I'm on board, too," Stella chimed in. "And I'm sure Daryl won't mind one extra day here."

"Sounds like a plan, then," said Glenn. "Once Daryl and Noah are awake, we should get the map and figure out our route from here. And Beth, we can show you the places we've found possible clues that the group had been there. So you can get an idea of where we've been and where we need to go."

"I'd like that," Beth smiled. She stood and grabbed a fork from a kitchen drawer to finish off the peaches Maggie and Glenn had opened. Stella sighed contentedly, glad they could spend one more day at the orchard instead of heading out on the road again right away. Not only would the physical rest be appreciated, but she figured having a day off of constant anxiety would also help her mental wellbeing. She dug into the jar of peaches and happily listened to the light-hearted conversation that had struck up around the table.

* * *

><p>Stella stirred the pot of canned soup she was heating for lunch. The previous night, the group had discovered with delight that the gas stove still functioned, and there were more canned food items stashed in the pantry of the house. The group had spent the morning relaxing and going over the map, and Daryl and Noah hadn't woken until almost midday. At first, Daryl had been irritated when he realized how long Stella had let him sleep, but his attitude changed when she told him they would be staying at the house for another day. He had spent the morning taking apart their stash of guns and cleaning the weapons, despite the fact that Stella had urged him to take advantage of the day and just relax.<p>

Suddenly the sound of hurried footsteps pounding down the stairs caught Stella's attention. She followed the steps to the living room, where Beth excitedly held a box in her hands.

"Look what I found!" she exclaimed.

The rest of the group looked up from where they were situated around the living room. Daryl frowned.

"What is that?" he asked.

"Settlers of Catan!" Beth grinned. "It's a board game. And they have the 5-6 player expansion, so we can all play."

"Never heard of it," Daryl grunted.

Beth rolled her eyes at him. "It's really fun and it's easy to learn. You're playing. There's no getting out of it."

Stella smirked, enjoying the way Daryl sighed and gave in. It seemed that Beth could get him to do almost anything, and Stella found it endearing.

"I played Catan a few times in college," Stella mused. "Beth's right, it is pretty fun."

"How do you play?" Glenn asked.

"We'll show you," Maggie said. "This is one of Beth and my favorites."

"Why don't you guys set up the board and explain the rules while I finish making lunch," Stella suggested. "Then after we eat, we can play."

"Okay," Beth nodded with a large smile on her face.

Before long, the group was gathered around the Catan board on the living room floor, empty soup bowls pushed aside and long forgotten. The atmosphere was light and carefree as they spent the afternoon playing. The sound of laughter filling the living room brightened everyone's spirits. Glenn won the game (though Stella teased that it was because Maggie had given him so many pointers), and a second game soon followed after a short break for dinner. By the time Beth won the second game, it was past dark.

"This was nice," Maggie said with a smile as they gathered the many game pieces and put them back in the box.

"It was almost like normal life. You know, before the turn and all," Beth said.

"We should take the game with us when we leave," Stella suggested. "Assuming we find somewhere safe to settle down someday, it's a good form of group entertainment."

"Definitely," Glenn agreed.

"We should think about heading to bed," Maggie said as she stood and stretched. "We're back on the road tomorrow."

"I'll take first watch," Glenn offered.

"I can take second watch," Stella volunteered.

Glenn nodded. "Okay. I'll wake you in a few hours."

"Make sure you knock first," Stella said with a mischievous wink. Daryl scoffed awkwardly as the rest of the group snickered. "Come tuck me in?" she said to Daryl with an eyebrow arched expectantly. He rose from his spot on the floor and followed Stella out of the room, trying to ignore Glenn whistling at them as they departed. He followed her up the stairs and into the room they had claimed as theirs. The moment the door closed behind him, Stella's lips immediately found his. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pressed herself against him, and he kissed back with equal fervor.

* * *

><p>Stella broke from the kiss and grabbed the collar of his shirt, forcefully pulling him away from the door before pushing him roughly onto the bed and straddling him.<p>

"Damn, girl, what's gotten into you?" Daryl grunted as she ground against him and tore at the buttons on his shirt.

She shrugged with a devious glint in her eyes. "Are you complaining?"

"Hell no," Daryl growled, grabbing the back of her head and forcing her lips back to his. He was already hard, and she could feel it through the layers of fabric between them. She quickly finished unbuttoning his shirt and tossed it to the floor. Stella broke from their heated kiss to tear her own shirt over her head, followed by her bra. Still straddling him, she scooted back and kissed down his bare chest and stomach, her hands unbuckling his belt and jeans as she did so. When her mouth reached the waistband of his jeans, she aggressively tugged them down and off.

Daryl groaned as Stella wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and slowly slid the shaft into her mouth, taking as much of his length into her mouth as possible. She slowly moved her head up and down, swirling her tongue around the tip each time before sliding her mouth back down. Daryl grabbed her arms and tried to tug her up and away before he lost control.

"You better stop," he said hoarsely. She raised her eyes and met his gaze, but didn't stop the slow, purposeful movements of her mouth up and down his shaft. She reached a hand between his legs and cradled his balls in her palm while keeping her eyes on his. The sight and feeling of it almost pushed Daryl over the edge. Stella seemed to sense it, and she pushed more of him into her mouth, almost making herself choke on his length. He couldn't hold back any longer and released himself into her mouth with a groan. She swallowed his seed and licked him clean, gazing up at him with darkened eyes.

"Fuck," Daryl muttered, feeling dizzy.

She smirked at him and slowly crawled back on top of him. Daryl blinked as he came back to his senses, and he grabbed her by the shoulders and flipped her onto her back. He kissed down her neck and chest and took one of her hardened nipples in his mouth. He rolled his tongue over it and enjoyed the way her back arched at the touch of his tongue. He sat up and worked on unfastening her pants, tugging them off and tossing them to the floor with the rest of their clothing. He looked down at her, her slender naked body bathed in moonlight and her eyes looking at him, heavy with desire. His spent cock quickly twitched back to life at the mere sight of her. He ran his hands along her legs, his rough fingertips sending goosebumps along her soft skin. She bit her lip in anticipation as his fingers reached between her legs. She was wet and ready, and Daryl felt his erection return in full force. He lowered himself on top of her, his face directly above hers.

"You're beautiful," he said quietly.

She gave him a small smile. He held her gaze as he slowly pushed himself inside her. She let out a breathy moan as he filled her. He covered her mouth with his own in an attempt to swallow the sounds of her pleasure as he thrust in and out of her, her hips rocking along with his in perfect rhythm. When he could sense that she was getting close, he rose to his knees and pulled her hips up to drive himself deeper inside her. She pushed a pillow over her mouth to stifle the sounds of her orgasm as she cried out, her muscles clenching around him.

As soon as her climax subsided, Daryl pulled out of her and flipped her on her stomach. She raised her hips to give him better access as he thrust himself back inside her. She kept the pillow over her mouth as he quickened his pace, his hands gripping her hips and moving her against him with more force. Her fingers clenched the pillowcase tightly as she felt a second orgasm overtake her. Daryl followed with his own climax moments after. He almost collapsed on top of her, panting and light headed.

* * *

><p>Once he managed to catch his breath, he rolled off of her and went to the dresser in the corner of the room. He grabbed the first article of clothing he touched and tossed it to Stella to clean herself up. She stood and dabbed at herself, simultaneously searching for her clothes. Daryl pulled his own clothes on, remembering that Glenn would be coming to wake Stella in a few hours for the second half of the night watch shift.<p>

Once dressed, the pair collapsed into the bed. Daryl curled his body around hers and pulled her tight against him. The traces of a satisfied smile lingered on her lips, and he was taken with her beauty. He remembered Beth's words from the night before and cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly.

"This thing we're doing," he began. "It ain't just sex. I mean, for me it ain't . . ."

Stella turned her face to his, wondering what brought this about. Daryl never talked about their relationship, and she could sense that he was uncomfortable.

"It isn't just sex for me, either," she said. "It's a lot more than just sex."

Daryl nodded. "I ain't good at this relationship stuff. Never really had a real relationship before, so I dunno what kinds of things I'm supposed to say. But I just needed you to know that you're . . . special, I guess."

Stella grinned. He was so inarticulate about his feelings, but it just made him even more charming.

"I get what you're saying. Or what you're trying to say," she said. "You're special to me, too. You . . . you mean a lot to me."

Daryl leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

"You mean more to me than anyone ever has," he said quietly. "And I just needed you to know."

* * *

><p><strong>I wonder if any of my readers play Catan! I love the game (I actually play it once a week with friends, usually with dinner and lots of wine involved). Catan would pretty much keep me entertained forever in the apocalypse. ;) <strong>


	27. Chapter 27

The sun began to peek over the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky. Stella smiled at the beauty of it from her spot on the porch where she had taken second watch that night. Daryl's declaration of his feelings for her had left her feeling happy and warm all night. She knew he wasn't comfortable talking about emotional things, and it meant a lot to her that he had made an effort to make his feelings known.

As the sunlight began to spill over the orchard, Stella stood and stretched. She hated that they would have to leave this little sanctuary today, but the day of rest and the events the night before still left her feeling light hearted. She walked inside just as Daryl was descending the stairs.

"Morning," he greeted, his voice still scratchy from sleep.

"You're up early." Stella smiled and sauntered over to him for a kiss. He nodded.

"Yeah. With no watch last night, I got a solid night's sleep."

"Good," Stella said. She made her way into the kitchen with Daryl following. Beth and Noah were already awake, and Beth was heating a pot of oatmeal on the stove.

"Good morning," Stella greeted cheerily. "Sleep well?"

"Mhm," Beth nodded with a smile. She glanced between Stella and Daryl, her smile growing and her blue eyes twinkling. "Sounded like you two had a nice night."

"Huh?" Daryl grunted.

Beth bit back a snicker. "Thin walls."

Noah snorted and looked away, and Stella's eyes widened. She noticed Daryl immediately flush red with embarrassment. He muttered something about needing to start loading up the bus before fleeing out of the kitchen. Stella bit her lip and grinned at Beth and Noah sheepishly.

"Um . . . sorry about that."

"Don't be," Beth smiled back. "I just couldn't resist teasing. It's something I never imagined I'd be teasing Daryl Dixon about."

Stella remembered Daryl's words from the night before. _You mean more to me than anyone ever has. _It was becoming more and more apparent that what Stella had with Daryl was an incredibly rare thing. She found herself unable to wipe the smile from her face as she moved to the kitchen cabinets and began fishing out bowls for the oatmeal.

"I'm sure we weren't the only ones taking advantage of a private room," Stella said facetiously. Beth and Noah glanced at each other, and Stella noticed Beth blushing and Noah awkwardly averting his eyes. She mentally slapped herself for the remark. She had forgotten how young Beth and Noah were; despite their traveling together and obviously couple-y behavior, they may not have gotten to the point of sex yet. She remembered that sex was a big deal when she was Beth's age. Thankfully, Maggie and Glenn entered the kitchen as Stella was racking her brain for a way to ease the awkwardness she had created.

"Speak of the devil," she said, deciding to pretend she had only been talking about Maggie and Glenn. "Good morning."

"Morning," Maggie replied. She went to her sister and gave her a hug. "Thanks for making breakfast."

"Where's Daryl?" Glenn asked.

"Loading up the bus," Stella said. "I'll go tell him breakfast is ready."

She went outside and found Daryl loading jars of peaches onto the bus. As he emerged from the bus for another load, she made her way over to him and slipped her arms around his waist. He smiled down at her somewhat abashedly, clearly still embarrassed from Beth's remark minutes before.

"Come get something to eat," she said. "You don't want to start the day on an empty stomach."

He nodded and kissed her on the side of her head before following her back inside the house.

* * *

><p>It was mid-afternoon by the time the bus pulled to a stop in a small town north of the peach orchard. They had encountered a herd on the highway after getting on the road, and after laying low for a few hours and waiting for the herd to pass, they were finally able to get moving again. Stella hated that they were thrust into danger so soon after leaving the orchard, but she found that she was finally adjusting and better able to handle the anxiety of the threat. Being on the road still scared her, but it was a fear she was growing accustomed to.<p>

The group glanced around out the windows. The herd they had encountered earlier in the day seemed to have been moving from the direction of the town they had just pulled into. There were still a few walkers shambling about, and the group was on alert.

They had filled Beth and Noah in on their process for searching for clues: some of the group searching grocery or drug stores for pertinent missing supplies, others checking the surrounding area for any other clues or useful supplies they could scavenge for themselves. This time, they split into two groups of three, with Maggie, Glenn, and Noah agreeing to search the small local grocery store and Daryl, Stella, and Beth deciding to search along the main street of the town.

The group cautiously exited the bus with their weapons drawn. Stella followed Daryl and Beth down the street, taking out a few walkers that came too close. She felt a little on edge, but she noticed that Beth, while alert, seemed perfectly calm. The girl had spent months on the run and in constant danger, and it seemed she was now quite used to the routine of entering new areas possibly infested by the dead. Stella admired her ability to remain collected.

The three of them suddenly halted in their tracks as they turned a corner. The street displayed the remnants of a large battle with the dead. Corpses littered the street to the point that the road would have been impassible by car. Stella bit back a gag at the smell the piles of bodies gave off. Daryl moved closer to the scene, his keen eyes picking up a trail of blood that had to have come from a living person. He followed the drops of blood to an intersection a block over. The blood disappeared here, and the tire marks on the pavement explained why. Someone had gotten out of here in a hurry.

"Daryl!"

He turned at the sound of Beth's voice. She stood near one of the larger piles of bodies with a hat in her hand. A sheriff's hat. Carl's hat.

Daryl's eyes widened and he rushed over to her. The hat was unmistakable. It had to be Carl's. He felt a surge of relief and worry immediately wash over him. This was a solid sign that the group had been here, but the state of the town meant that things had gone south while they were here. He hoped that whomever had been here had gotten out alive and unbitten, but there was no way to be sure.

"There's tire marks heading north down that road," he said, jerking his head in the direction the car had headed. "The blood stains leading up to it can't be that old since they're still visible. Maybe a week?"

"Then they're close. They have to be," Beth said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

"Uh, guys?" Stella interrupted from where she stood back by the town's main street. "We need to go."

Daryl and Beth jogged back over to her and looked in the direction of her gaze. Walkers. Lots of them. It seemed that the entirety of the herd they had encountered earlier in the day had not left this town. There were too many ghouls to count, and definitely too many to fight. They looked down the street and saw Glenn, Maggie, and Noah by the bus, and more dead approaching them. The biters were filling the street, blocking the second group's path to the bus.

"Go!" Daryl shouted down the street. "I'll draw 'em away from the bus!"

"What? No!" Stella exclaimed, but Daryl ignored her outburst and ran down the street in the opposite direction of the bus.

Maggie, Glenn, and Noah rushed into the bus and closed the doors right before the crowd of dead reached the bus, their rotting hands pounding on the sides of the vehicle. Beth grabbed Stella's arm and tugged her behind the wall of the nearest building to get the two of them out of sight. Several long moments passed before the sound of a car horn honking reverberated throughout the small town. The honking persisted, and the dead that were surrounding the bus began to turn toward the sound. Beth and Stella ducked into a doorway and flattened themselves against the wall as the ghouls began to shuffle past.

Stella tried not to think about the fact that the herd was now heading toward Daryl and his distraction. They had to get to the bus. The majority of the dead were now past where Beth and Stella were hiding. The sound of the car horn stopped abruptly, and Stella met Beth's eyes for a brief moment before the two of them darted out from their hiding spot and made a beeline for the bus. The walkers who trailed at the back of the group took notice of them and reached for them, but they ran past and made it to the bus without incident. Glenn hurriedly opened the doors and let them on. The bus was already running and ready to go.

"Where's Daryl?" he questioned immediately.

"He drew them away with the car horn," Stella panted. "We have to find him."

Glenn immediately threw the bus into drive and tore away from its parking spot by the curb. He turned down the first street he came to and drove in the direction the herd had wandered toward. Stella tried to control the panic she felt for Daryl's safety, her breathing coming in short, strangled gasps. Glenn swerved around a few walkers, hitting one and splattering the windshield with gore. He turned down another street, following the herd.

"There!" Maggie shouted suddenly, and Stella whirled in the direction she was pointing. Daryl was on a ladder of a fire escape with a large crowd of dead reaching up for him from below. Glenn drove the bus right up to the crowd and honked the horn, immediately snagging the herd's attention. As they reached for the bus, Glenn put it in reverse and backed up quickly. He then put it back in drive and sped away, turning sharply and going around the block to approach the fire escape from the other side. The slow speed of the walkers' movements worked to their advantage, and as he screeched to a stop back in front of the fire escape, Daryl leapt from the ladder and raced toward the bus, taking out two lingering walkers with his knife. Glenn threw open the doors and Daryl jumped inside. As soon as he was in, Glenn took off again, tires squealing, and sped away from the herd. Stella threw her arms around Daryl. He gripped her back, his breathing ragged and labored.

"That was a little too close for comfort," Glenn said as he sped out of the town and away to safety. "Did you find anything worthwhile?"

"We did," Beth said with a grin, holding up Carl's hat.


	28. Chapter 28

**We are actually getting sort of close to the end of this story! I'm not sure how many more chapters there will be (probably five or six). But fear not! I have already started outlining my next story (it will be an AU Daryl Dixon story set in 1920s Prohibition)! I can't wait to start writing it. **

* * *

><p>The atmosphere was tense on the bus, but it was a good tension. The discovery of Carl's hat had been the first real clue they had found since the start of their journey, and knowing that they were close had everyone feeling anxious and somewhat excited. After making it out of the town unscathed, Daryl instructed Glenn to drive in the direction the tire marks had headed. He was confident that the blood he had seen on the ground couldn't have been more than a week old, meaning the group was still hopefully close.<p>

They had encountered only one impassible road, and there was only one other possibility heading north, making it easy for them to know which way to go. They had passed through two more small towns and had searched them without much of a problem, which was a relief after the close call earlier in the day. They hadn't found any further concrete clues in the two towns, but Carl's hat still had them feeling optimistic.

As the sun descended in the sky throughout the afternoon, they began to look for a place to stop for the evening. They hoped they could find some kind of house or building to spend the night in, as the encounter with the herd that morning had everyone feeling wary about spending the night on the side of the highway. Stella felt exhausted due to the events of the day and the watch she had taken the night before, and she couldn't wait to find a place to rest. Daryl had taken over driving a few hours prior, and as she examined his tired face in the rearview mirror, she could tell that he also needed rest.

Suddenly, the bus passed a sign that caught her attention. Lake Lanier: 5 miles. She remembered Lake Lanier from her college days. She and her friends had spent several weekends there. They had rented cabins or camped and spent their days boating or relaxing on one of the lake's beaches. She remembered the gorgeous blue-green shade of the water and the fun times she had experienced there. She wondered if it would be a good place to spend the evening.

"Can biters swim?" she asked, her question directed at no one in particular.

"Not that I know of," Maggie replied.

"They can't," Beth said. "We took shelter at this country club for a few days back in Atlanta, and they had a little lake by the clubhouse. A couple of walkers fell in, but they just thrashed around in the water for a while until they drifted back to where they could touch the bottom. I don't think they have enough muscle coordination to swim."

"That makes sense," Stella nodded. "Lake Lanier is a couple of miles away. Maybe we could look for a place to spend the night around there? If we have our backs to the water, it's just one less direction we'll need to keep watch on."

"I like that idea," Daryl said from the driver's seat. "It'll also allow us to refill our water supply."

He followed the signs for Lake Lanier and exited the highway. Daryl drove aimlessly down a road surrounded by trees for a while before they saw signs for a marina, meaning they were near the water's edge. Daryl turned down the road that led to the marina. As they approached, Stella could see several large docks jutting out into the water. There were boats in many of the dock slips.

"What if we spend the night on a boat?" Stella wondered aloud. "If the dead can't swim, we'd be unreachable."

"Not a good idea," Daryl disagreed as he pulled to a stop in front of a building that looked like it had once been a restaurant. "Say a herd came through and stranded us out on the water. Or people lookin' to steal our supplies when we're out there and out of reach."

"Oh, yeah," Stella said, feeling stupid. She looked around through the windows. Everything appeared deserted and still, but the sheer size of the marina suddenly made her feel nervous.

"What if people are living on their boats?" she wondered.

"We should definitely do a sweep of all the docks before bedding down for the night," Glenn said. Daryl killed the engine and the group stood, everyone grabbing weapons.

"Let's split into groups of two to check stuff out. We've got a lot of ground to cover before dark," Maggie said.

Naturally, the group split into their respective couples and each set out in a different direction. Thankfully the little peninsula the marina was situated on seemed to be void of any walkers at the moment, but Stella found herself fearing the possibility of the living more than the dead. She followed Daryl to the first dock.

"I'll take this side, you take that side," Daryl muttered quietly. She nodded and peered into the first boat on her side of the dock, seeing nothing. The boats on this dock were small, but Daryl and Stella climbed aboard each boat with a cuddy and made sure the cuddies were clear before moving on. They systematically checked the boats on the three docks they had volunteered to check, thankfully finding all the boats empty.

They made their way back toward the restaurant where the bus was parked. As they reached it, they noticed Beth and Noah emerging from the building.

"Restaurant's clear," Noah called to them. "But it's definitely been scavenged. There's not a crumb of food to be had inside."

"Docks on the south side are all clear," Daryl replied.

"Same with the docks on the north," Beth said.

They saw Maggie and Glenn also approaching the group. "All clear," Glenn declared as he reached them. "Had to get rid of one walker that was still in his boat, but that was all."

Daryl nodded and looked around. It seemed a safe enough spot to spend the night. It was deserted of both living and dead, and any wandering ghouls could only come from one direction.

"Let's sleep in the restaurant," Daryl said. The group nodded in agreement. Stella's eyes suddenly brightened and a grin spread across her face.

"I have a fishing pole on the bus," she said excitedly. "We grabbed one in the town where we found you guys," she nodded toward Beth and Noah.

"Do you know how to use it?" Daryl asked her with a teasing tone.

"Yes," Stella replied defiantly. "My daddy used to love fishing."

"Fish sounds amazing," Maggie grinned.

"All right, you try your hand with the fishing pole and I'll see if there's any game in the woods around here," Daryl said. "Hopefully we'll all go to bed with a full belly tonight."

* * *

><p>The water was cool and refreshing on Stella's bare feet. She sat at the edge of one of the docks with her jeans rolled up and her feet in the water. The sun had just set, and the sky reflected shades of light pink, purple, and dark blue. She had succeeded in catching several fish earlier, and Daryl had also brought back a rabbit from his short hunt. The group had merrily enjoyed their dinner, and now Stella had slipped away to enjoy the peace and quiet. Daryl was asleep in the restaurant, as he had volunteered to take second watch, and Glenn and Maggie had mysteriously disappeared toward one of the docks. Stella smirked to herself, knowing they were likely using one of the boat cuddies for some alone time.<p>

The sound of footsteps on the dock behind her jolted her out of her reverie, but it was only Beth approaching.

"Mind if I join you?" the blonde asked quietly.

Stella smiled. "Please do."

Beth copied Stella and removed her shoes and rolled up her jeans. She sat down on the dock next to her and slipped her feet into the cool water.

"Noah on watch?" Stella asked.

Beth nodded, looking out on the water. "It's nice here," she said after a moment. "Quiet. Peaceful."

"Yeah," Stella agreed. "I used to come here in college for weekend getaways. I've had a lot of good times on this lake."

"Like what?" Beth asked with a smile.

Stella sighed wistfully, a grin spreading across her face. "Lots of things. One weekend, about ten of us came up here. We rented two pontoon boats and spent all day that Saturday on the lake drinking beer and horsing around. I got the worst sunburn of my life that weekend. It blistered and everything." She chuckled to herself. "Or another time, we decided to camp on the shoreline somewhere, and a couple of guys convinced this one girl that there were bears in these woods. She was from Nebraska or Iowa or something and wasn't an outdoorsy type, so she was easy to fool. Anyway, a couple of raccoons started fighting near where we were camped, and she thought it was a bear. She ran into the water in all her clothes to get away from it. She was furious when she found out there weren't actually any bears around here."

Beth laughed, her smile genuine and bright. The pair were silent for a few minutes, both just thinking and remembering.

"It's good you still like to talk about life before all this," Beth said suddenly. "Not a lot of people do anymore. It's like they want to forget, or like they think it's too painful to remember. But I think it's good to remember."

Stella nodded, surprised by how deep Beth's statement actually was. "The world is definitely different now. But we still have to live in it, and we have to make the most of it. I always try to look at the positive side of things. It's the only way we'll get through life the way it is. We have to appreciate what we had then, what we have now, and whatever we end up with in the future."

"I like that," Beth said. "It's good to appreciate things, even when we don't have much."

"It's like I told Daryl a long time ago," Stella remembered. "Survival isn't living. We have to live as well as survive."

Beth smiled. "You and Daryl are good together," she said. "He really needed someone like you."

"Thanks," Stella said. "I needed him, too. More than I realized."

"He may be rough around the edges, but he has a big heart. And you should know that if he opens his heart to you and lets you in, it's a huge deal."

Stella nodded. "I know. I'm starting to see that more."

"Daryl's the kind of guy who will love someone forever once he gives his heart to them," Beth continued. Stella's eyes widened at her use of the word "love." She knew she felt deeply for Daryl, and he for her, but the word "love" scared her a little. She didn't use the word lightly, and obviously Daryl didn't either. Love wasn't a game or a casual thing to her. She bit her lip, her thoughts reeling. Did she love Daryl?

"Sorry, I'll shut up now," Beth said with a smile. "But just know this—if you break his heart, you'll have me to answer to."

Stella met Beth's eyes, noticing her smirk and teasing expression. Even though her expression was playful, Stella knew that Beth would probably defend Daryl until the end. She grinned at the younger girl and shook her head.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," she said. "His heart is safe with me."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I have no idea if zombies in the Walking Dead world can swim. While researching the subject, I came across several debates about it, and I wasn't able to find a definitive answer. For the sake of this story, zombies cannot swim. They also cannot walk along the bottom of bodies of water like World War Z zombies do. Just wanted to clarify that. :)<strong>


	29. Chapter 29

Stella turned over in her sleeping bag with a huff. Despite her exhaustion from the previous day, she had had trouble sleeping. She had gotten a few hours in, but she had woken up shortly before dawn and found herself unable to fall back asleep. Beth's words kept replaying in her head. _Daryl's the kind of guy who will love someone forever once he gives his heart to them_. Why was it that one mention of the word "love" had her tossing and turning?

Stella knew she had feelings for Daryl. Deep feelings. She knew that she would feel broken and lost without him, and that he made her feel safe and happy despite the way the world was. But did that mean she loved him? She wasn't sure. Stella wasn't like most girls she had known before the apocalypse who were quick to fall in love with men. She didn't think she had ever been in love. She had had boyfriends in the past, even relationships that had lasted up to a year. But she had never told a man that she loved him, because she never felt that she had.

As she had done several times that night, Stella ran through all of her past relationships in her mind. It was very clear that her feelings for Daryl were much stronger than for any of the other men she had dated. She tried to consider the variables in the situation. Were her feelings for him so strong just because she could die tomorrow? Did the apocalypse have anything to do with the situation? Stella didn't think so. She knew she and Daryl would have been compatible even before the dead had started walking. She couldn't deny the chemistry between them, but it was so much more than that. What had started as just a sexual attraction had grown into something much deeper. She sighed and mentally scolded herself for developing feelings for a sexual partner. Relationships that grew out of sex were always complicated.

The sole fact that she was so torn up about her feelings for Daryl was notable. She had never had this mental conversation with herself about any other man before him. She wasn't sure when the feelings had developed, but they were there, and they weren't going to leave her alone. She thought about the way she felt every time Daryl looked her way, or ran his rough fingertips over her skin. She thought about how her pulse quickened when she heard his voice. She thought about how safe she felt in his arms, and how perfect and right being with him felt. With a sudden jolt that felt similar to fear, she realized that this had to be love. There was no other way to describe it.

She sat up in her sleeping bag, feeling panicked by her realization of her own feelings. Stella was in love with Daryl. And the thought absolutely terrified her.

She wriggled out of the sleeping bag and stepped carefully over the sleeping bodies of her companions before fleeing outside. The chilly pre-dawn air felt refreshing, and she took a deep breath and tried to steady her racing heart.

"You okay?"

Stella jumped at the sound of Daryl's voice. He was still on watch from the night before, and he was looking at her with concern in his eyes. Normally his presence calmed her, but after her sudden realization inside only moments before, the sight of him made her feel jumpy and almost scared.

"Yeah," she managed to reply. "Can't sleep. Gonna go down to the docks to clear my head."

Daryl frowned. "Okay . . . be careful."

She nodded, patting her utility belt that held her knives as if to reassure him. She quickly walked away and down the road toward the docks. She never thought she would be trying to get away from Daryl, but at that moment, she wasn't ready to face him.

Why couldn't things have just stayed simple? Two people who got along and had great sex? It was obvious that Stella had been in love with Daryl for some time, but it took Beth's blunt words for her to realize it herself. She wished she hadn't come to terms with it. She wished she was still naïve to her own feelings. She had only been aware of her love for Daryl for a few minutes, and already it was tearing her apart.

Stella reached the dock she had sat on with Beth the night before. She walked to the end and sat down, staring out over the water. The sun had started to peek over the horizon. Everything around her looked serene, which was a stark contrast to the way her mind felt.

She was suddenly faced with the realization that she wasn't sure if Daryl's feelings matched her own. This complicated things further. Now that she had come to terms with her feelings, she found herself wondering if Daryl had had a similar realization. She remembered his words from only a day ago: _You mean more to me than anyone ever has_. It was a sincere and deep statement, but it didn't mean that he loved her. She sighed heavily. Why was love so complicated?

Suddenly a sound across the water caught her attention. She squinted across the water, trying to identify the sound. It almost sounded like the motor of a boat. But that was unlikely . . . wasn't it? The sound drew closer, and Stella finally saw what it belonged to. It _was_ a boat. And it was heading toward the marina. Stella's eyes widened and she scrambled to her feet. She was torn between running back up to the restaurant to warn her friends and trying to find somewhere to hide. She knew she would never make it to the restaurant in time, as the boat was approaching fast. She could see two people in the boat. Her eyes darted to the boats in the slips around her, and she scrambled to the closest one with a cuddy. She ducked into the cuddy and slammed the door shut. It had no lock, and she prayed that she hadn't been seen.

Stella crawled across one of the seats and peered out one of the small windows in the bow. The small motorboat approached the dock. One of the people jumped out onto the dock and began quickly tying up the boat in a nearby empty slip. Both were women who appeared to be armed with large machine guns. After the boat was tied up, the second woman joined her companion on the dock. Stella waited with bated breath and watched the two women talking. She felt her insides freeze as one of them jerked her head toward the boat Stella was hiding in.

Stella grabbed her larger knife from her utility belt and waited as the two woman approached the boat. Her heart was pounding as she felt the boat rock as they climbed aboard. She took a deep breath and poised herself for attack as the door was wrenched open.

She was faced with a machine gun pointed in her face. A woman with short hair held the gun, her eyes examining Stella critically.

"Drop the knife," the woman ordered. Stella hesitated, but saw no way out of the situation. She let the blade clatter to the floor.

"And the belt."

Stella unfastened the utility belt and let it fall. She raised her hands in surrender, her eyes darting back and forth between the two women.

"Are there others?" the woman with the short hair asked. Stella nodded. "How many?"

"Five."

The women looked at each other and began whispering. Stella thought she heard the words "head back" and "the others." She realized that the two woman intended to take her back to their camp before getting more back up to take the others. She tried to think of some way out of the situation, but she was trapped.

Suddenly she heard the sound of footsteps on the dock. She heard Daryl's voice call her name, and she cursed him for checking on her. One of the women turned and stepped off the boat with her gun raised.

"Stop right there!" she shouted.


	30. Chapter 30

Stella wasn't sure what she had been expecting to hear after the second woman went after Daryl with her gun raised. Perhaps his refusal to drop his weapon, a fight, or even his surrender. But certainly not what she was hearing now.

"I'll be damned!" the woman exclaimed, and Stella thought she heard her footsteps move toward Daryl on the dock.

"What is it?" the woman who still had her gun pointed at Stella called.

"Come and see for yourself," her companion replied. The woman in front of Stella looked her up and down and cautiously stepped backward out of the cuddy. She kept her gun trained on Stella, but chanced a look down the dock to see what the other woman was talking about. Stella saw the woman's eyes widen, and she raised a hand to cover her mouth in surprise. In one moment, Stella seemed forgotten as her captor let her weapon drop to her side. She rushed out of the boat and down the dock.

Stella stepped forward and peered out of the cuddy to see what was going on. Daryl had the short-haired woman in a tight embrace, while the other woman stood next to them with a smile on her face. Stella bent down and gathered up her utility belt and knife before cautiously stepping out onto the dock. Suddenly Daryl noticed Stella and released the short-haired woman.

"I'd like you to meet someone," he said, going to Stella and guiding her to the two women. "This is Stella. Stella, this is Carol and Michonne."

"Hey," Michonne greeted. "Sorry about holding you at gunpoint. You just never know who's lurking around here."

"It's okay," Stella shrugged, remembering she had also felt similar distrust for harmless Beth and Noah when she had first encountered them.

"Who else made it?" Carol asked quickly. "Stella said there were five others with her."

"Maggie, Glenn, and Beth are with us," Daryl replied with a smile. "And Beth's friend Noah."

Carol and Michonne looked elated with the news.

"What about you guys? Who are you with? Anyone from the group?" Daryl questioned.

Michonne gave him a wide smile. "Yes. It took a while for everyone to find each other, but we're pretty much all there." She jerked her head toward the water, and Daryl's eyes followed her gaze to a large island in the middle of the lake.

"Everyone?" Daryl repeated. He seemed at a loss for words. Stella could sense how relieved he was.

"I can't believe we found you," Carol said, moving to give Daryl another hug. Daryl looked stunned, and Stella flashed him a smile. She knew it was impossible that she was as relieved as he was, but finding the group meant that their days on the road could be over, which definitely relieved her to no end.

"We're living on Three Sisters Island, out in the middle of the lake. The biters can't swim, so we're safe from them. We've had a little trouble with the living, which is why we weren't too friendly with Stella," Michonne explained, giving Stella an apologetic glance. "Most people we've run into have been all right though. We've built a little community out there. There's probably about thirty of us now."

"That's . . . that's amazing," Daryl said. He still seemed as though he couldn't quite process what was happening.

"Let's get the others," Stella said with a smile.

* * *

><p>Stella couldn't help feeling nervous as the boat made its way toward Three Sisters Island. The boat was small, and the group was crowded together. Beth, Maggie, Glenn, and Daryl all looked extremely happy and excited. Although Stella was glad to have found their group and a safe place to stay, she felt like an outsider. Noah had an uncertain expression on his face, and Stella imagined he was feeling similar to her.<p>

After a somewhat tearful reunion at the restaurant, the group had helped Michonne and Carol siphon some gas into cans for the boats on the island, which had been the purpose behind the two women's trip to shore to begin with. They planned to go back to the island to get a bigger boat to transport all the supplies that were still stowed in the bus.

The boat approached the large island and turned into a small cove on the southwest end of the island. Stella could see about fifteen boats of various sizes beached on the shore, and four large houseboats anchored in the cove.

"We make sure we have enough boats out here to get everyone off the island in case we need to leave in a hurry," Carol explained. "After the prison, we can never be too careful."

"We also have someone patrol the perimeter of the island in one of the smaller boats several times a day," Michonne added. "And at night, we station each of the four houseboats at different vantage points around the island to keep watch on the rest of the shoreline."

"You had much trouble?" Daryl asked.

"Some," Carol said. "But we have a lot more people now, so threats are easier to . . . extinguish."

Stella took note of Carol's wording. The woman seemed very capable of defending herself and her people, and it was clear she had no qualms about killing any potential threats. Stella wasn't sure if she felt respect for the woman or if she made her a little nervous. Either way, she seemed to be a good asset to have for survival.

The boat pulled up to the shore of the island, and Daryl and Michonne jumped out to haul it up on the beach. Stella could hear the sound of voices through the trees ahead. She climbed out of the boat after the others and peered through the trees.

"Welcome home," Michonne said. "We'll show you around."

The group made their way through the trees until they came to a clearing. Stella's eyes widened as she looked around. Crude shelters were built throughout the area. They weren't anything fancy, but they had walls, roofs, windows, and doors. Some were made of timber that looked as though it came from the surrounding area, and some were made from wood that looked like it had come from a lumberyard. A few tents were scattered around the area as well, and it appeared that shelters were being constructed behind the tents. In the center of the camp, there was a large fire pit with many logs surrounding it, and it appeared to be a community seating area. People milled about, some carrying buckets of water from the lake, some with fishing equipment slung over their backs, and some carrying timber from the nearby woods for building shelters. Stella was in awe of the little camp, and judging from her friends' reactions, they were, too.

"We spent the winter here," Carol said. "It was a pretty cold winter since we didn't really have time to build proper shelters, but we're working on it. We think that by the time next winter rolls around, we'll be pretty set."

"This is amazing," Maggie sighed.

"There's plenty of fish in the lake, and we've planted lots of seeds in a garden over there. It's too early in the season for anything to come up yet, but it will. Rick's been taking good care of it," Carol continued.

"We still have to make runs to nearby towns for some supplies, but for the most part, we try to make do with what we have here," Michonne said.

"It looks like paradise," Beth said with a wide smile on her face.

"Come on," Carol urged. "I think there are several people who are going to be very happy to see you."

They followed Carol and Michonne into the camp, and Stella noticed lots of eyes following them. A few people began to move toward them, and she figured they were part of the original group. Carol knocked on the door of one of the shelters. The door swung open and revealed a middle-aged man with blue eyes and a scruffy beard. He held a baby in his arms. When he saw the group standing before him, tears sprang to his eyes. Beth rushed forward and took the baby, tears of happiness streaking down her own cheeks. A boy in his early teens appeared behind the man, his eyes widening when he saw what was happening.

Stella stepped back as the group was ambushed by more people, many laughing or crying or both. It was a beautiful reunion, but she couldn't help feeling out of place. She moved to stand next to Noah, who was clearly in the same position.

"Beth said they were like family," Noah said. "I can tell she was right."

"Yeah," Stella agreed. "They definitely are family."

She just hoped that this family that meant so much to her friends would be willing to accept her into their tightknit group as well.


	31. Chapter 31

The group was gathered around the large fire pit in the center of the camp as a woman who had been introduced as Ellie ladled oatmeal from a large pot into bowls for each of them. Rick had insisted that they have breakfast before going back to the bus for their supplies, despite Daryl's protests that he didn't want to leave the supplies unattended for too long.

Stella sat on a log between Daryl and Maggie. After the tearful reunion the group had experienced, Rick had taken them around and introduced them to the other survivors who were living in the camp. All the names and faces were a complete blur to Stella. She felt overwhelmed by it all. The small group of six that she had traveled here with was the largest group of people she had been a part of since the turn. Stella had always been a friendly and outgoing person, but she felt that it would be a while before she could adjust to living in a community again. She felt thankful for the familiar faces sitting next to her.

As Ellie handed her a bowl of oatmeal, she flashed the woman a thankful smile and turned her attention back to what Rick was saying. He was clearly the leader of the group, and Stella could see why. He was confident and commanding, and he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders.

"Runs have been getting more dangerous," Rick was saying. "We've been having to venture farther out for certain supplies, like building materials and medical supplies. It seems like there are a lot more herds out there than there used to be."

"You're tellin' me," Daryl agreed. "We had a few run ins ourselves."

"I can't tell if the walkers are just traveling in groups more or if it's because their numbers are increasing. Either way, it ain't good."

"Well it's a good thing they can't swim then," Glenn said.

Rick nodded. "Yeah. But we do need to be more careful on runs. Last week's run wasn't good. We barely made it out of there, and hardly in one piece."

"That reminds me," Beth said, looking up from the baby in her lap, whose name was apparently Judith. "We found Carl's hat the other day. We've got it in the bus."

Rick's eyes widened. "That was the run last week that got pretty hairy. We were ambushed by a herd. Carl lost his hat, but I told him he had to leave it. We had to get out of there fast."

"He's certainly grown up a lot," Maggie said with a smile. "Going on runs and everything."

Rick rolled his eyes. "He's stubborn. If I don't let him come along, he gets pretty surly and claims I won't let him help. He's definitely almost a teenager."

Stella finished her oatmeal and continued looking around the camp. More people were moving around and going about their day now. Rick had explained that people generally looked after themselves, but they sometimes gathered together as they were doing now for group meals. He said that the watch duties were shared among everyone in the group, so everyone did their part. Stella caught Noah's eyes across the fire and shared an empathetic glance with him. She felt relieved that someone else was feeling as overwhelmed as she was.

Once everyone had finished their breakfast, they placed their empty bowls in a large bucket filled with water by the fire. Beth offered to clean the dishes, and Rick nodded.

"Daryl, why don't you and I go get your supplies," Rick suggested.

"I could come along if you need an extra hand," Stella offered. She felt the need to be useful, but Rick shook his head.

"We'll need the space for the supplies. With just the two of us, we might be able to get it all in one trip. You guys should stay here and get to know everyone. Find a place where you want to build a shelter. The whole island is ours, so you can choose anywhere you like."

"Hardly married and we're already house shopping," Glenn said dramatically as he linked his arm through Maggie's. The group shared a laugh, and Stella couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face.

"I think we've got one spare tent you can use while you're building," Rick said. "We can look for a few more when we make our next run to town. Until then, you're welcome to hole up in one of the boat cuddies."

Stella saw Daryl wrinkle his nose, knowing he probably wouldn't opt for sleeping in such a tight space.

"As long as it don't rain, I'm fine sleepin' outside," he said, confirming her suspicions.

"I'll go get a boat ready to take to shore," Rick said. "We'll leave in a minute."

Stella watched Rick as he headed toward the shore of the cove they had arrived in. She heaved a sigh, once again feeling a little overwhelmed. Daryl seemed to sense her discomfort. His sharp blue eyes bored into hers, and she felt like he could read her like a book. She wondered if he would be able to sense the love she had discovered she held for him only that morning. She blinked and forced her thoughts about the matter away. They had more important things to focus on right now.

"You gonna be okay while I'm gone?" Daryl muttered quietly. Stella nodded and forced a smile, and she could tell Daryl could see right through her façade.

"It's just a lot to take in," she said with what she hoped was a light-hearted shrug. Daryl nodded in understanding.

"It'll take some getting used to. For me, too," he said quietly. "But the important thing is that we're safe."

"Yeah," Stella agreed, forcing another smile.

"I won't be gone long. Find us a good spot to set up. Preferably a little farther away from everyone else . . . if that's okay with you."

"Absolutely," Stella said, glad she and Daryl agreed on making their home a little set apart from the rest of the bustling community. Daryl flashed her a warm smile and drew her in for a hug. Stella breathed in his familiar scent and felt better. He pulled away suddenly and Stella looked up to see a few people from Daryl's original group staring at them. Daryl cleared his throat awkwardly and stepped away from her, clearly uncomfortable to be seen showing affection. Stella rolled her eyes at him and shoved him playfully. He gave her a quick sheepish smile before turning and heading over toward Rick, who stood waiting by a boat.

Stella walked back toward the community fire pit where Beth and Noah still sat, Judith toddling around in front of them. She sat down next to Beth, who gave her a warm smile. Stella knew that Judith was Rick's daughter, but she seemed to have a special bond with Beth. The toddler seemed to remember her despite their months apart.

"She seems just as happy as you to be reunited," Stella said.

"I missed her," Beth smiled. "I used to take care of her a lot when we were at the prison."

Stella nodded. Her eyes drifted over to Daryl and Rick, who were now in the boat and heading away from the island. Beth followed her gaze.

"They getting our supplies?" she asked.

"Yeah," Stella replied.

"Daryl seemed a little embarrassed to be caught hugging someone a few minutes ago," Beth said teasingly.

Stella snorted. "I don't think he knows how to handle any form of PDA, no matter how mild it is."

"He probably just doesn't want to tarnish his reputation as a tough hard-ass," Beth giggled. Stella laughed, the feeling of it relieving some of her anxiety.

"He better not make me mad, or else the whole camp is going to find out what a softie he actually can be."

Beth laughed again. "I still can't believe he let his guard down enough to let someone steal his heart," she said with a wink. "But then again, the dead are walking, so I guess anything is possible."

Stella nudged Beth playfully. She noticed Noah looking somewhat uncomfortable with the girlish gossip occurring next to him, and he excused himself, muttering something about finding a good spot for them to a build a shelter. Stella's thoughts drifted back to her realization from that morning, and she wondered if or when she would feel comfortable telling Daryl how she felt. He wasn't exactly approachable when it came to matters of the heart. Beth seemed to sense Stella's reeling thoughts and she arched an eyebrow, silently asking what was bothering her.

"I think I'm in love with him," Stella blurted, the statement coming out almost as a single word. Beth smiled knowingly, as if she had recognized Stella's feelings long before she had realized them herself. Stella wondered if it had been obvious to everyone but her.

"He's in love with you, too, you know," she said matter-of-factly.

"What?" Stella shook her head. "No, he can't. I mean, I know he cares about me. He told me that much. But, no. Just because he cares doesn't mean . . ."

"Yes it does," Beth said firmly. "It's written all over him. Anyone who knows him can see it plain as day. He's not good with talking about his feelings, but just because he hasn't told you outright doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. I guarantee you that he loves you just as much as you love him."

Stella put her face in her hands. All of her doubts from that morning were swirling around in her head. It was almost too much to handle.

"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told him," Beth said. "In this world, we don't have time to hide our feelings or wait it out to see if the other person reciprocates, or whatever. You should tell him that you love him."

"I don't know if I can," Stella confessed. "I only just realized it this morning."

"Of course you can. But know this—even if he doesn't say it back right away, which he might not since this is totally new to him, you should still tell him. I guarantee you that no woman has ever said that to him before, and it would mean a lot to him."

Stella hadn't thought about it that way. He had told her that he had never had a serious relationship before, and Stella knew he had a very rough past. She sighed and resolutely made up her mind to tell him how she felt. Even if he rejected her, or handled it poorly, he deserved to know that he was loved.

* * *

><p><strong>I love making Beth such a good advice-giver. I think she's wiser than a lot of people give her credit for. I wanted to try to keep that aspect of her alive in this story, and I hope it's believable.<strong>

**On another note, there will be only two more chapters in this story! I'm sad to see it come to a close, but I'm very excited to start writing my next story. :)**


	32. Chapter 32

**Since we are getting so close to the end of this story, I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who has been reviewing the story! Special thanks go out to Katarzyna88gb, gabby871, sillygabby, and casper6six6 for their frequent reviews! You guys are the reason I update (almost) every day! :)**

**Also, heads up, there is sexual content in this chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>The tree Daryl had been hacking at slowly began to fall, crashing to the forest floor with a thud. Daryl set down the ax he was holding and rubbed at his aching shoulders. He was quite glad for the isolation of the island, because felling timber anywhere that wasn't surrounded by water would be sure to draw lots of walkers. They had been on the island for two days now, and Daryl had busied himself gathering plenty of lumber to build shelters for he and Stella, Maggie and Glenn, and Beth and Noah. Glenn had helped cut down lumber the first two days, but he was currently on a supply run with a few other members of the camp. Noah wasn't of much use for hard labor, but he had been helping where he could. And although Stella wasn't one for chopping wood, she had insisted that Daryl allow her to help build their shelter once they had the supplies they needed.<p>

Stella seemed to be adjusting better to the group. She still frequently stuck by Maggie and Beth, which was understandable since the three girls got along as if they had been friends for years, but she had also made fast friends with Sasha and another girl named Hannah. Hannah was in her early 30s and very outgoing, and her dry sense of humor often seemed to have Stella laughing. Daryl was relieved to see her making friends and enjoying herself. Her apprehension of being included on the first day hadn't eluded him.

Daryl examined the trees he had managed to bring down that day. Building a shelter was exhausting work, but also quite gratifying. He could already picture the little one-room log cabin he had in his mind, with Stella's smiling face greeting him there every morning as they woke. It would take a lot of hard work to build such a structure, but he was determined to make it happen. He wasn't sure if he was doing it for himself or for Stella, but either way, he was motivated.

He grabbed the ax off the ground and began to make his way back toward the camp. He would need help hauling the wood back to the building sites, and he desperately needed to refill his canteen. He and Stella had chosen a spot a ways away from the rest of the camp. The island was large, about a mile long, and he was glad she agreed with his desire to put some space between themselves and the others. Maggie and Glenn had given him a little grief for choosing a spot away from them, but they understood his tendency to be solitary and avoid large groups.

Daryl reached the camp and made his way to the large basins of clean, pre-boiled water that were designated for drinking. He filled the empty canteen he had hanging from his belt and took a deep swig. He heard laughter and looked out through the trees to the lake's shoreline where Stella, Maggie, and Sasha sat doing laundry and giggling about something. He couldn't fight the smile that tugged at his lips as he watched Stella laughing at something Maggie said.

"Hey," a voice said from behind him. He turned to see Carol approaching him with her hands tucked casually into her pockets.

"Hey," he greeted, taking another deep drink from his canteen. He didn't fail to notice the way Carol studied him and Stella. Everyone from the prison group had seemed to notice them, and he couldn't blame them. He had been so unapproachable before Beth and Stella had broken down some of his walls. No one had said anything to either of them about their relationship, however, and for that Daryl was grateful. It was bad enough feeling their prying eyes stealing glances at the couple whenever he did so much as smile at Stella. Carol had never been intimidated by Daryl, however, and it was clear she remained that way.

"It's nice to see you with a woman now," Carol said delicately.

Daryl frowned at her tone. She seemed like she was tip-toeing around the subject.

"Yeah," he grunted, studying her carefully.

"How did you end up together?" she asked bluntly. Daryl fought his urge to scowl at her. He understood that it was strange for his group to see him with someone in this way, but it couldn't be _that _unbelievable, could it?

"She saved my life," he said. "Was runnin' from a herd for miles, and she lived in the treehouse where we spent the winter. She threw down the ladder and that was that."

"Well, I know that," Carol said. He and Glenn and Maggie had told everyone about the treehouse where they had hunkered down for the winter, and the group also knew how Daryl and Stella had met. "I meant, how did you end up _together_?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. "However people normally end up together," he replied somewhat tersely. "We just work. Ain't never found a woman who I get along with like her. It just made sense."

"Okay," Carol said, raising her hands as if in surrender. "I'm not trying to judge—"

"You sure?" Daryl cut her off.

Carol sighed. "She's a great woman. Really, she is. I just wanted to make sure you're happy."

Daryl backed off a little, feeling bad for snapping at her. "I am," he nodded. "I really am."

Carol smiled at him. "Good." She squeezed his arm reassuringly and walked away.

Daryl hung his head, wishing he hadn't been so short with her. He knew Carol cared about him, but he still wasn't used to answering questions about his relationship with Stella. It was still all new ground for him. He had never had someone that he cared about so deeply, and that alone was throwing him. He would die for her in a heartbeat. She wasn't just a sexual partner or someone he could tolerate spending time with. To actually _feel_ for someone, to know that life would hold almost no meaning if that someone was gone, scared him. And in the dangerous world they lived in, death was always a real possibility around every turn. He had tried to keep the emotional aspect of their relationship at bay for as long as he could, but he knew he had already failed. She meant too much to him already.

Daryl sighed and stole another look at Stella and her companions by the water before heading back out into the forest with his ax over his shoulder. He and Stella were safe here on the island. Maybe they could build a life here, a real life. Not just a temporary place to stay before having to run again. Maybe now that things weren't completely about survival, he could focus more on living, just as Stella had told him to do all those months ago. He smiled to himself as he thought about a real life with Stella, and he couldn't wait to start living it.

* * *

><p>Stella walked through the woods away from the busy community. They had just finished a very satisfying group meal that mostly consisted of pan fried fish (some of which Stella had caught earlier in the day). The sun was beginning to set, and Stella had stolen away from the group to enjoy the peace and quiet on the rest of their island sanctuary. She was immensely relieved to find that the group had welcomed her, and even more relieved that she had made new friends quickly. However the constant social interaction throughout the day had left her feeling drained, and the quiet walker-less woods called to her.<p>

She didn't make it far before she heard someone following her. She turned and met the icy blue eyes of Daryl. She smiled warmly at him and held out her hand for him to take. He strode over to her and laced his fingers through hers.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

"Just a walk," she shrugged. "Wanted to get away from the noise for a while."

Daryl nodded, completely understanding. They walked in comfortable silence, their hands swinging between them. They reached a spot near the shore of the island, far away from the others. They could barely hear the sounds of the group. Stella sat down near the edge of the tree line, and Daryl sat next to her. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer to him. She leaned against him and watched the sun setting over the lake. The setting was so serene, and it was hard to believe that it was impossible for them to be interrupted by the dead. The island truly was a sanctuary.

Daryl shifted toward Stella and brought a hand to her cheek to turn her toward him. His lips met hers in a soft kiss, and Stella felt herself melting into him. She pulled away after a few moments and leaned her forehead against his.

"I love you," she said softly. She saw his blue eyes widen and he withdrew his forehead from hers. His surprise was evident, and she searched his eyes for signs of his reaction. He seemed unable to say anything, looking like a fish out of water. Each second that passed felt like a lifetime as she waited for him to say something. She remembered what Beth had said, that he might not say anything back, and she decided that regardless of his reaction, she was glad she had told him.

"I love you, Daryl Dixon," she said again, firmly this time.

He drew in a shaky breath and put his face in his hands. Stella bit her lip, wondering if she had scared him away with her confession. But when his face emerged from his hands a few moments later, he was smiling.

"No one's ever said that to me before," he said, his voice low. "No one. Maybe my ma did at some point, but I sure as hell don't remember it."

Stella's eyes widened, and she moved to sit across his lap, her legs on either side of him and her eyes staring straight into his.

"You deserve to know that you are loved," she said, lowering her lips to his and kissing him passionately. Daryl tangled his hands in her hair and kissed her back feverishly, trying to pull her closer to him, as if every millimeter between them made her too far away. He pulled away and looked back into her eyes.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice breaking a little as he said it. He had never uttered those words to anyone before, and they felt both foreign and completely right as he said them. Stella's lips widened into a smile, and Daryl's mouth found hers again.

Their kiss turned from soft to urgent in a matter of seconds. Both of them felt the need to be as close as they could be to one another. Stella's hands grabbed the hem of his shirt and tore it from his head. His lips moved down her neck, and her shirt and bra soon joined his shirt on the grass beside them. Daryl kissed every inch of her neck and chest, worshiping her body with his lips. His hands grabbed her ass and lifted her off his lap and onto her back in the grass. He climbed between her legs and his lips claimed hers again. Stella couldn't remember ever being kissed this passionately. It was clear that Daryl was pouring all of his emotions into the kiss, and Stella thought it was beautiful.

Both of them hurriedly fumbled with the fastenings on each other's pants. They couldn't get undressed fast enough. Finally, they were free, and Stella reveled in the feeling of his skin against hers. They didn't bother with foreplay, both of them needing to be as one. Daryl pushed inside her and swallowed her moan of pleasure with his mouth. He moved slowly and purposefully, and Stella rocked her hips with each deliberate thrust. Their lips separated, but Daryl held Stella's gaze, his eyes not leaving hers until she finally closed them in ecstasy as she climaxed hard. Daryl felt himself reach his own release at the same time, both of them crying out as they came.

Daryl looked down at the beautiful woman beneath him. He couldn't believe that she was his, and more importantly, that she loved him. He never thought that a man like him would fall in love, and he had to admit, the feeling was intoxicating.

He delicately kissed her once on each cheek and then once on the lips. She beamed up at him as he withdrew, clearly feeling just as elated as he was.

"I fucking love you," he growled, and she giggled.

"I fucking love you, too."


	33. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Stella could see her breath in the chilly air, but their physical exertions were keeping them warm. She jogged back over to the toppled burlap dummy and hauled it upright.

"You're getting quicker, but you have to remember to go for the head. Nothing else will even slow them," she said. The thirteen-year-old girl nodded and took a breath before launching into another attack on the dummy. This time, her blade struck true, and she sank the knife into the dummy's forehead. The girl looked to Stella and beamed with pride.

"Check out Lena over here," Stella called to Maggie, who was in the midst of training Courtney, Lena's older sister. Maggie whistled.

"Keep up that good aim," she praised, and Lena's proud smile grew wider.

"I think that's enough for today," Stella said. The sun was getting low in the sky, and she hoped Daryl would be back from his hunting excursion soon.

Winter was almost upon them. Stella guessed that it was likely mid to late November. Since their arrival to the camp that previous spring, their group's numbers had grown to upwards of 40. Lena and Courtney were two of the most recent arrivals, and surprisingly, the girls had little to no experience fighting the dead. Stella and Maggie had taken it upon themselves to train them so that they would be able to defend themselves if they needed to. Despite the girls' parents' initial protests, the girls were eager to learn, and they had proved to be very capable students.

Stella watched Lena shove her knife into its sheath on her belt and walk back toward the camp. She noticed Carl lingering nearby and had to suppress a smile when he and Lena began walking toward the water basins together. Carl had been relentlessly crushing on Lena since she had first arrived at the camp, and it looked like he was finally making progress in his efforts to befriend her.

She walked through the woods away from camp and toward her and Daryl's cabin. It was a good distance away from the main camp and gave them the illusion of solitude, even though the rest of the group was still close by. The cabin wasn't at all fancy or large, but it was home. Daryl and several of the other group members had built it using techniques reminiscent of eighteenth-century pioneer life, notching the logs together and sealing the cracks with wood chips and mud. It had one tiny window and a dirt floor, and it was only one room, but it was all Stella and Daryl needed.

Stella opened the door and took off her jacket, setting it on the top of one of the kitchen chairs that Daryl had swiped from the restaurant by the marina. A crudely-constructed bed was in one corner, and a bookshelf held their belongings and few kitchen supplies in the other corner. Thanks to a former stonemason who had joined the group a few months back, they also had a small stone fireplace along the back wall of the one-room cabin that brought warmth and a way to cook small meals. The stonemason had been installing fireplaces in as many shelters as possible before winter hit, and the group couldn't have been more thankful.

They had only had a few altercations with bad people in the past few months. Usually the threat had been small and easily disposed of, and the use of the house boats for a constant night watch helped to identify threats before the threats noticed them. Fires on the shoreline could be spotted from a long ways off when everything around the island was dark. More often than not, the fires belonged to harmless survivors, and after rigorous questioning and discussion among the group, the survivors were invited to join their community. Now there were 45 people living on Three Sisters Island, and though Stella didn't know everyone by name, she thought most of them were good people. It gave her faith that not all of humanity had gone sour, a belief that Beth had held even when there was plentiful evidence to the contrary. The island community had restored much of their humanity. The normalcy was reassuring.

Stella bent to light a fire in the small fireplace. She warmed her hands in front of the flames. A knock at the door jerked her out of her thoughts, and she strode across the small cabin and opened the door to see Beth standing in front of her.

"Hey," Stella greeted with a smile, holding the door open for her. Beth entered and smiled when the warmth from the fire washed over her.

"A few of us are gathering in the hall to play Catan after dinner," Beth said. "Would you want to join?"

"Only if I can be red," Stella replied, and Beth laughed. She and Beth often fought over who would get to use the red pieces. It was both of their favorite.

"Fine," she agreed, her eyes twinkling. "I'll see you in the hall then. Maybe in like two hours?"

"Sounds good," Stella said. Beth flashed her a smile and exited the cabin. The hall was a community space they had constructed a few months prior. It didn't live up to the implied size of its name, but it was still larger than most of the shelters on the island. The community used the space for activities, group meals when the weather was poor, and meetings when community business needed to be discussed. Stella smiled, looking forward to the game later. She was glad they had swiped the game from the peach orchard all those months ago.

The door to the cabin opened again, revealing a grimy-looking Daryl with three dead squirrels strung over his shoulder. He had been hunting in the woods off the island for most of the day. Stella made her way to him and gave him a deep kiss.

"You need a wash," she said teasingly as she pulled away. He grinned and shrugged, dropping the squirrels on the table.

"Maybe I like bein' dirty," he replied, his voice low and laced with secondary implied meaning. Stella rolled her eyes at him.

"You catch anything good today?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Took me all day, but I got a deer. It's down in the hall. Gonna go butcher it up for a stew. Hannah said she'd cook for everyone tonight."

Stella nodded. "Beth came by and said people were going to play Catan after dinner. You wanna play?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I'll just watch you play."

Stella pressed herself into him and reached her hands under his shirt, her fingertips ghosting over the skin on his back.

"Maybe we should play our own game first," she said suggestively. Daryl's blue eyes danced with amusement as he looked down at her. He laced his fingers through her hair, as he so often did, and pulled her lips to his in a slow, passionate kiss. He pulled away and caressed her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. He stared at her, his gaze unwavering. She frowned slightly, wondering why he was staring.

"How are you so perfect?" he murmured.

"C'mon now," Stella chided. "Nobody's perfect."

"You make me think otherwise."

Stella laughed softly. "Nah. But maybe I was made just for you, and you for me."

Daryl smiled down at her. "Absolutely."

His lips found hers again, and Stella found herself getting lost in the kiss. Daryl could be covered in dirt and grime, but she still found him irresistible. He broke the kiss before she could get too carried away.

"I love you," he said. Stella's heart swelled a little with the words, her chest feeling like an inflating balloon. Hearing him say that never lost its magic on her.

"I love you," she replied.

Daryl pulled away and gave her one last smile before leaving the cabin, probably to prepare the deer he had caught for dinner. Stella sighed wistfully as she watched him go. When did life become so wonderful? When the dead had started walking, Stella never would have believed she would find such complete happiness. Even though civilization was all but destroyed, the dead rose and ate the living, and nothing was as it used to be, Stella couldn't remember ever being happier.

She had friends. She had a home. She had a man she loved with all her heart who loved her right back. She had everything she needed. This was what life was supposed to be. She and Daryl were happy, and furthermore, they were safe. And the life they had was definitely worth celebrating.

**The End**

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><p><strong>And it's over! Thank you SO MUCH to everyone for your reviews, favorites, and support. I couldn't have done it without you. :)<strong>

**I'm going to take about a week off before publishing my next story (I want to have the entire story outlined before I start writing). The new story will be called Dixon's Vixen, and it will be an AU Daryl/OC story set in 1920s Prohibition. So if bootleg booze, speakeasies, and rebellious flappers sound interesting to you, keep an eye out for the new story!  
><strong>


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